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“l KNOW THAT THE DISCOVERT OF THIS TREASURE IS CONNECTED WITH SOME 
CRYPTOGRAM WHICH HAS TO DO WITH THE LOST PEACOCK.” 

Frontispiece, Page IJSi. 


THE PEACOCK OF 
JEWELS 


BY 


FERGUS HUME 


AUTHOR OF 

E MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB,” “THE RED WINDOW,” 

“the yellow holly,” “the sealed message” 
“the disappearing eye,” etc., etc. 




G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY 

NEW YORK 


PUBLISHERS 




Copyrighty 1910, By 
G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY 


THE PEACOCK OP JEWELS 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 





PAGE 

I. 

THE ROTHERHITHE CRIME 


r *3 

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5 

II. 

AT THE VICARAGE 

1*1 

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21 

III. 

A STORY OF THE PAST 

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3 Z 

IV. 

AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR 

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53 

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THE LETTER i., 

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70 

VI. 

THE BOARDING-HOUSE 

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84 

VII. 

YULETIDE i.i ,.j 

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100 

VIII. 

AN EXPLANATION 

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117 

IX. 

ANOTHER TRAIL 

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132 

X. 

MR. SORLEY^S JEWELS 

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148 

XI. 

JOTTY 

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163 

XII. 

AN INDIAN CLIENT 


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178 

XIII. 

AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR 

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194 

XIV. 

FACE TO FACE 


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209 

XV. 

THE BLACK BAG >• 

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224 

XVI. 

MISS INDERWICK^S EXCURSION 

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240 

XVII. 

THE SECRET 



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257 

XVIII. 

THE TREASURE HUNT 

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276 

XIX. 

AT DAWN 

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294 

XX. 

WHO IS GUILTY? .. 

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XXI. 

THE TRUTH 

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XXII. 

CALM AFTER STORM 


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THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


CHAPTER I 

THE ROTHERHITHE CRIME 

To find Barkers Inn was much the same to an 
ordinary person as looking for a needle in the 
proverbial haystack. Dick Latimer, however, knew 
its exact whereabouts, because he lived there, and 
on this foggy November night he was making for it 
unerringly with the homing instinct of a bee. Leav- 
ing Fleet Street behind him, somewhere about 
eleven-thirty, he turned into Chancery Lane, and 
then struck off to the right down a by-road which 
narrowed to an alley, and finally ended in a cul-de- 
sac. Here the young man hurried through the rusty 
iron gates of a granite archway, and found himself 
in an oblong courtyard paved with cobble-stones and 
surrounded by tumble-down houses with steep roofs 
of discolored tiles. A few steps took him across 
this to a crooked little door, which he entered to 
mount a crooked little staircase, and in one minute 
he was on the first-floor landing, where a tiny gas-jet 
pricked the gloom with a bluish spot of light. Hastily 
using his latchkey, he admitted himself through 
a door on the left into a stuffy dark passage, technic- 
ally called the entrance hall. Eventually entering 
the sitting-room, he hurled himself into a creaking 
basket-chair, and gave thanks to the gods of home 
that he had arrived. 

The friend with whom Latimer shared these 
Barkers Inn chambers was seated by the fire clothed 
S 


6 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


comfortably in a suit of shabby old flannels, reading 
a letter and smoking a briar-root, complacently at 
ease. He nodded when Dick stormed into the room, 
and spoke with his pipe between his teeth. 

“Beastly night, isn't it?" remarked Mr. Fuller, 
who had been spending the evening at home very 
pleasantly. 

“You’d say much more than that, Alan, my boy, 
if you’d been out in the fog,’’ retorted Latimer. 
“Bur-r-r! I’m glad to be indoors and to find you 
still out of bed at the eleventh hour. I’ve had 
adventures: official adventures.’’ 

“Connected with your employment as a jour- 
nalist, I suppose,’’ said Fuller in a lazy manner, and 
tucking the letter into his breast pocket, “but se- 
riously speaking, Dicky, are adventures to be found 
in this over-civilized city ?’’ 

“Romance stalks the London streets, more or 
less disguised as the commonplace, my son. I can 
a tale unfold, but sha’n’t do so until I change 
my kit and have a Scotch hot on the way to my 
mouth. Is the water boiling?’’ he demanded, direct- 
ing his gaze towards the old-fashioned grate where 
a small black kettle fumed and hissed on the hob. 

“It’s been boiling for me,’’ said Fuller, indicating 
an empty tumbler at his elbow, “but I’ve enough 
water for your needs.’’ 

“I only hope you’ve left enough whisky, which 
is far more precious. Poke up the fire and warm my 
slippers and make a fuss over me. I want to be 
fussed,’’ said Dick plaintively, as he retreated to his 
bedroom, “for I’m a poor orphan boy alone in this 
foggy world.’’ 

“Ass!” observed Alan politely, and exposed the 
soles of his friend’s slippers to the fire, “what about 
supper ?/’ 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


7 


‘IVe had that,” sang out Latimer, “at someone 
else’s cost.” 

“You must have ruined him then with your 
appetite,” answered Fuller, laughing, while he tilted 
back his chair to place his feet against the mantel- 
piece and his hands behind his head. In this position 
he smoked quietly and admired the photograph of an 
extremely pretty girl, which stood beside the clock, 
while the small black kettle sang the song of 
home. 

The room was both long and broad with a low 
whitewash ceiling, crossed with black oak beams, 
a somewhat slanting floor — owing to the great age 
of the building — and three squat windows which 
overlooked the dingy courtyard. These were 
draped with faded curtains of green rep, drawn at 
this late hour to exclude the cold, ^nd before one 
stood the writing-table of Latimer, while the escri- 
toire of Fuller bulked largely against the other. Be- 
tween the two, and blocking the approach to the 
middle window, stretched a slippery horse-hair sofa, 
covered with a rugged Eastern shawl to hide its 
many deficiencies. A shabby Kidderminster carpet 
concealed the worn floor, but its sad hues were 
brightened by three or four gayly colored mats, 
purchased at a cheap price. The round table, the 
unmatched chairs, the heavy sideboard, the sofa 
aforesaid, and the chipped bookcase, were all the 
flotsam and jetsam of auction rooms, belonging, 
more or less, to the comfortably ugly style of the 
Albert period. On the plain green-papered walls 
were various photographs of men and women, with 
sundry college groups; pictures of football teams, 
cricketers and boating-crews ; odd bits of china and 
miniature statues on brackets ; likewise foils, fencing 
masks^ boxing gloves and such-like paraphernalia of 


8 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


sport. It was a real man’s room, suggestive of 
exuberant virility, and remarkably untidy. All the 
same there was order in its disorder, as both Lati- 
mer and Fuller knew exactly where to lay their 
hands on any article they wanted. The room was 
chaotic enough to drive a woman to distraction, but 
comfortable and home-like for all that. 

The journalist returned in a well-worn smoking 
suit, and proceeded to light his pipe. Fuller brewed 
him a glass of grog, and handed it across as he sat 
down in the saddleback chair on the verge of the 
hearthrug. The two men were fine specimens of 
humanity in their different ways. Latimer was 
large and fair and heavily built, with big limbs, and 
a suggestion of great strength. He had untidy 
yellow hair and a yellow mustache which he tugged 
at hard when perplexed. His blue eyes were keen, 
but on the whole he did not reveal much brain power 
in his face, which undoubtedly told the truth, since 
he was more of an athlete than a scholar. Fuller, on 
the contrary, was brilliantly clever, and as a solicitor 
was doing very well for himself in a dingy Chancery 
Lane office. He was tall and slim, with a wiry frame, 
and a lean, clean-shaven face, clearly cut and 
bronzed. Indeed with his steady dark eyes and 
closely clipped black hair, and remarkably upright 
figure, he suggested the soldier. This was probably 
due to heredity, since he came of a fighting line for 
generations, although his father was a country vicar. 
Also, in spite of his sedentary occupation, the young 
man lived as much as possible in the open, and when 
not running down to his native village for week- 
ends, haunted the parks on every possible occasion, 
or walked four miles on Hampstead Heath and into 
the country beyond. It was no wonder that he 
looked tanned, alert, bright-eyed, and active, more 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


9 


like a squire of the Midlands than a votary of 
Themis. Since Fuller senior was poor, the boy had 
to earn his bread and butter somehow, and after he 
left Cambridge had elected to become a lawyer. 
Shortly after he blossomed out into a full-blown 
solicitor, he chanced upon his old school friend, 
Dick Latimer, who had taken to journalism, and the 
two had set up house together in the ancient Inn. 
On the whole they were fairly comfortable, if not 
blessed with an excess of the world’s goods. Finally, 
being young, both were healthy and happy and 
hopeful and extremely enterprising. 

“Well now, Dicky, what have you been doing?” 
asked Alan, when his friend, clothed and in his right 
mind, sipped his grog and puffed smoke-clouds. 

“Attending an inquest at Rotherhithe.” 

“Oh, that murder case !” 

Latimer nodded and stared into the fire. “It’s a 
queer affair.” 

“So far as I have read the newspaper reports, it 
seems to be a very commonplace one.” 

“I told you that Romance was often disguised as 
the Commonplace, Alan.” 

“As how, in this instance ?” 

His friend did not reply directly. “What do you 
know of the matter?” he asked so abruptly that 
Fuller looked up in surprise. 

“Why, what can I know save what I have read in 
the papers?” 

“Nothing, of course. I never suggested that you 
do know anything. But it’s no use my going over 
old ground, so I wish to hear what you have learned 
from the reports.” 

“Very little, if you will be so precise,” said Alan 
after a pause. “In a fourth-class Rotherhithe boardr 
ing-house frequented chiefly by seamen, a man 


lO 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


called Baldwin Grison was found dead in his bed- 
room and on his bed, a few days ago. The Dagoes 
and Lascars and such British seamen as live under 
the same roof are not accused of committing the 
crime, and as Grison was desperately poor and 
degraded, there was no reason why he should be 
murdered, since he wasn’t worth powder and shot. 
Old Mother Slaig, who keeps the house, declared 
that Grison retired to his room at ten o’clock, and 
it was only next morning, when he did not come 
down, that she learned of his death.” 

Latimer nodded again. ‘‘All true and plainly 
stated. You certainly think in a methodical manner, 
Alan. The man was found lying on his bed in the 
usual shabby suit of clothes he wore. But his breast 
was bare, and he had been pierced to the heart by 
some fine instrument which cannot be found. Death 
must have been instantaneous according to the re- 
port of the doctor who was called in. But you are 
wrong in thinking that the crime was motiveless. I 
believe that robbery was the motive.” 

“The papers didn’t report any belief of the police 
that such was the case.” 

“The police don’t know everything — at least the 
inspector didn’t, although he knows a great deal 
more now,” said Latimer, removing his pipe, “but 
the single room occupied by the deceased was 
tumbled upside down, so it is evident that the 
assassin was looking for the fruits of his crime. 
Whether he found what he wanted is questionable.” 

“What was it?” asked Fuller, interested in the 
mystery. 

“I’ll tell you that later, although I really can’t 
say for certain if I am right. Let us proceed gradu- 
ally and thresh out the matter thoroughly.” 

“Fire ahead. I am all attention.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


II 


“The police/’ continued Dick meditatively, 
“hunted out evidence as to the identity and the status 
of the dead man, between the time of death and the 
holding of the inquest. Inspector Moon — he’s the 
Rotherhithe chap in charge of the case — advertised, 
or made inquiries, or got hold of the sister some- 
how. At all events she turned up yesterday and ap- 
peared at the inquest this very day.” 

“Who is the sister?” 

“An elderly shrimp of a woman with light hair 
and a shrill voice, and a pair of very hard blue eyes. 
She heard that her brother was murdered, or Moon 
hunted her up in some way, and willingly came 
forward with her story.” 

“What is her story?” 

“I’m just coming to it. What an impatient chap 
you are, Alan. Miss Grison — Louisa is her Chris- 
tian name — keeps a shabby boarding-house in 
Bloomsbury, and is one of those people who have 
seen better days. It seems that her brother Baldwin 
was secretary to a person, whose name I shall tell 
you later, and was kicked out of his billet twenty 
years ago, because he couldn’t run straight.” 

“What had he done?” 

“I can’t say. Miss Grison wouldn’t confess, and 
as the story wasn’t pertinent to the murder she 
wasn’t pressed to confess. All she said was that her 
brother was an opium-smoker and after losing his 
billet drifted to Rotherhithe, where he could indulge 
in his vice. She tried to keep him respectable, and 
allowed him ten shillings a week to live on. But he 
sank lower and lower, so she saw very little of him. 
All she knew was that she sent the ten shilling postal 
order regularly every Friday so that Baldwin might 
get it on Saturday. He never visited her and he 
never wrote to her, but lived more or less like a 


12 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


hermit in Mother Slaig’s boarding-house, and went 
out every night to smoke opium in some den kept by 
a Chinaman called Chin-Chow. Miss Grison sobbed 
bitterly when she gave her evidence and insisted that 
her brother owed his degradation to the enmity of 
people.’’ 

‘‘What sort of people?” 

“She didn’t particularize. He was weak rather 
than bad, she insisted, and when he lost his situa- 
tion, he lost heart also. At all events he devoted 
himself to the black smoke, and lived in the Rother- 
hithe slum, until he was found dead by the old hag 
who keeps the house.” 

“Did Miss Grison’s evidence throw any light on 
the crime ?” 

“No. She declared that she did not know of any- 
one who would have killed the poor devil.” 

“Was there any evidence on the part of the doctor, 
or Mother Slaig, or those seamen in the house to 
show who murdered the man?” asked Fuller. 

“Not the slightest. The house was open morn, 
noon and night, and those who lived there came and 
went at their will without being watched. It’s a 
rowdy locality and a rowdy house, but Mother 
Slaig keeps fairly good order as she’s a formidable 
old hag resembling Vautrin’s aunt in Balzac’s 
story.” 

“Madame Nourrisau; I remember,” said Fuller, 
nodding. “Then I take it that no one in the house 
heard any struggle, or cry for help ?” 

“No. Besides, as I have told you, death must 
have been instantaneous. No one, so far as Mother 
Slaig or others in the house knew, visited Grison on 
that night, or indeed on any other occasion — so they 
say — since the man was more or less of a hermit 
He went to bed at ten and at the same hour next 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


13 


morning he was found dead with his room all up- 
side down.” 

‘'Was anything missed?” 

‘‘There was nothing to miss,” said Latimer 
quickly. “I saw the room, which only contained a 
small bed, a small table and two chairs. The man 
had but one suit of ragged clothes, which he con- 
cealed under a fairly good overcoat his sister de- 
clared she sent to him last Christmas. He was 
desperately poor and never seemed to do anything 
but smoke opium.” 

“What kind of a man was he to look at ?” 

“Something like the sister. Small and fair-haired, 
with blue eyes. Of course, owing to the black 
smoke, he was a wreck morally and physically and 
mentally, according to Mother Slaig, and the boys 
used to throw stones at him in the streets. How- 
ever, to make a long story short, nothing could be 
found to show how the poor wretch had come by his 
death, so an open verdict was brought in — ^the sole 
thing which could be done. To-morrow his sister, 
who seems to have loved him in spite of his degrada- 
tion, is taking away the corpse for burial.” 

“Where is it to be buried ?” 

Latimer looked up slowly. “In the churchyard of 
Belstone, Sussex,” he said. 

Alan sat up very straight and his manner ex- 
pressed his unbounded astonishment. “That’s my 
father’s parish,” he gasped. 

“Yes. And the churchyard is attached to the 
building your father preaches in, my son,” said 
Latimer dryly, “odd coincidence, isn’t it?” 

“But — ^but — what has this murdered man to do 
with Belstone ?” asked Fuller in a bewildered manner. 

“That’s what I want to find out, Alan. Can’t you 
remember the name?” 


14 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


“Never heard of it. And yet the name Baldwin 
Grison is not a common one. I should certainly 
have remembered it had it been mentioned to me. 
It is odd certainly, as Belstone isn’t exactly the hub 
of the universe. Grison! Baldwin Grison.” Fuller 
shook his head. “No, I can’t recall it. To be sure 
he may have been in the village twenty years ago. 
since you say that he has lived since that time in 
Rotherhithe. I was only seven years of age then, so 
I can remember nothing. But my father may know. 
I’ll ask him when I go down this week-end.” 

“There’s another thing I wish you to ask him.” 

“What is that?” 

“The romantic thing which lifts this case out of 
the commonplace. Only Inspector Moon knows 
what I am about to tell you and he informed me with 
a recommendation not to make it public.” 

“Then why do you tell me?” said Fuller quickly. 
“Is it wise?” 

“Quite wise,” responded his friend imperturbably, 
“because I asked Moon’s permission to take you 
into our confidence. 

Fuller looked puzzled. “Why?” 

Again Dicky replied indirectly. “It seems that 
Grison, unlucky beggar, had one friend, a street- 
arab brat called Jotty.” 

“Jotty what — or is Jotty a surname?” 

“It’s the only name the boy has. He’s a clever 
little Cockney of fourteen, and wise beyond his years, 
picking up a living as best he can. Grison used to 
give him food occasionally, and sometimes money. 
Jotty ran errands for the man, and was the sole 
person admitted to his room.” 

“Well! well! well!” said Alan impatiently. 

“I’m coming to it, if you don’t hurry me,” said 
Latimer coolly. occasion entered 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


i'5 


the room, and found Grison nursing between his 
hands — what do you think?” 

*‘How the deuce should I know?” 

‘‘A peacock of jewels!” 

Alan stared, and cast a swift glance at the photo- 
graph of the pretty girl on the mantelpiece. ‘‘A 
peacock of jewels I” he repeated under his breath. 

“Or a jewelled peacock, if you like. Grison put 
it away when he saw the boy : but that he had such 
an article is quite certain, as Jotty hasn’t the imag- 
ination to describe the thing. Now in spite of all 
search, Inspector Moon can’t find that peacock, and 
you may be sure that after Jotty told his tale the 
inspector searched very thoroughly. 

“Well?” Alan cast a second look at the photo- 
graph. 

“Well,” echoed Dick, rather annoyed, “can’t you 
draw an inference. I think, and Moon thinks, that 
the assassin murdered Grison in order to gain pos- 
session of the peacock, which was of great value. If 
he wants to make money out of it he will have to sell 
it, and in this way the inspector hopes to trap the 
beast. For that reason, and so that the assassin may 
not be placed on his guard. Moon doesn’t want 
anyone but you and me and himself to know the 
truth. You can’t guess why I have told you this.” 

“Yes.” Alan nodded and rubbed his knees, while 
a puzzled look came over his dark clean-cut face. 
“I remember telling you about the fetish of the 
Inderwicks ages ago.” 

“Tell me again as soon as you can withdraw your 
gaze from that photo.” 

Fuller colored, and laughed consciously. “When 
a man is in love, much may be forgiven him. And 
you must admit, Dicky, that she’s the beauty of the 
world. Now isn’t she?” 


i6 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


Latimer eyed the photograph in his turn, ^^She's 
pretty,” he said judicially. 

“Pretty,” echoed Fuller with great indignation, 
“she’s an angel, and the loveliest girl ever created, 
besides being the most fascinating of women.” 

“Oh, spare me your raptures,” broke in Dick 
impatiently. “Your taste in looks isn’t mine, and 
I’ve met Miss Marie Inderwick, which you seem to 
forget. She is very nice and very prettty and ” 

“Oh, hang your lukewarm phraseology,” inter- 
rupted the other. ‘‘She’s the most adorable girl in 
the universe.” 

“I admit that, for the sake of getting on with the 
business in hand. Now what about the peacock of 
jewels ?” 

“I told you all I know, which isn’t much,” said 
Alan, reluctantly changing the subject. “Marie lives 
at the big house in Belstone which is called ‘The 
Monastery’ because it was given by Henry VIII., to 
the Inderwick of ” 

“Oh, confound Henry VIII. What about the 
peacock ?” 

“It’s the family fetish, and for one hundred years 
has been in the possession of the Inderwicks. It 
was stolen some twenty years ago, and no one ever 
knew what became of it. Now ” 

“Now it turns up in the possession of Baldwin 
Grison, who has evidently been murdered on its 
account. And yet you deny latter-day romance.” 

“Well,” observed Alan rubbing his knees again, 
“I admit that your truth is stranger than your 
professional journalistic fiction. But how did this 
man become possessed of the ornament?” 

Latimer shrugged his mighty shoulders, “How 
dense you are! Didn’t I tell you how Louisa 
Grison declared that her brother had been secretary 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


17 


to a certain person, whose name I said I would tell 
you later on. I shall tell you now, if you aren’t 
clever enough to guess it” 

“Rats,” said Fuller inelegantly. “How can you 
expect me to guess it?” 

“By using what common-sense Nature has given 
you. Hang it, man, here is an excessively unique 
ornament belonging to the Inderwick family which 
has been missing for over twenty years. Orison’s 
sister says that she intends to bury her brother’s 
body in Belstone churchyard, and declared at the 
inquest that at one time he was the secretary to a 
certain person. Now if you put two and two 
together, you will find that the person is ” 

“Mr. Sorley. Randolph Sorley,” cried Fuller 
suddenly enlightened. 

“In other words, the uncle and guardian Of Miss 
Marie Inderwick. Well now, you can see that two 
and two do make four.” 

“Humph!” Fuller nursed his chin and looked 
thoughtfully at the fire. “So this murdered man 
was Mr. Sorley’s secretary. According to his sister 
he lost the situation — perhaps, Dick, because he 
stole the peacock.” 

“ We can’t be positive of that, Alan. Grison, in 
his secretarial capacity, certainly lived at The 
Monastery and assisted Mr. Sorley in preparing for 
the press that dreary book about precious stones 
which seems to be his life work. He had every 
chance to steal, but if Mr. Sorley had suspected him 
he assuredly would have had him arrested.” 

“ Perhaps Grison bolted and could not be traced.” 

“ I think not. He was, so far as I can gather 
from what Miss Grison says, dismissed in due form. 
He lived with her for a time at the Bloomsbury 
boarding-house and later on drifted to Rotherhithe 


i8 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


to indulge in his love for the black smoke. No! 
no! no! my son. Mr. Sorley could never have 
believed that Grison was in possession of the pea- 
cock of jewels.^’ 

‘‘ Then why did he discharge him ? ” 

We must find out, and that won’t be easy after 
twenty years. Mr. Sorley is growing old and may 
not remember clearly. But Grison on the evidence 
of Jotty undoubtedly had this peacock, and since it 
cannot be found, he must have been murdered by 
someone who desired the ornament. The disorder 
of that sordid room shows that a strict search was 
made by the assassin, and it could be for nothing 
save the golden peacock. Now, if the assassin did 
find it, Alan, and if you and I and Moon and Jotty 
keep silent, the man will think that he is safe and 
will sell his plunder.” 

‘‘Wait a bit, Dick. He may unset the jewels and 
sell them separately. Then it will be difficult to 
trace him by the sale of the article.” 

“True enough of Solomon. However we must 
take our chance of that. If he is certain that the 
loss is not suspected he may sell the whole without 
splitting it into parts. If he does. Moon — who has 
his eye on all pawnshops and jewellers and on vari- 
ous receivers of stolen goods — can spot the beast 
and arrest him. But, as a second string to our bow, 
it is just as well to know all about this family fetish, 
since its history may throw some light on the mys- 
tery of its disappearance. Now what you have to 
do, my son, is tO’ go down to Belstone and learn all 
you can about Grison when he was secretary to old 
Sorley. Ask Miss Inderwick and her uncle about 
him.” 

“Marie won’t know anything save by hearsay,” 
said Alan, shaking his head. “Remember she’s only 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


19 


twenty years of age, and was an infant in arms 
when the family fetish disappeared. Besides if I 
make inquiries I shall have to account for my curi- 
osity by revealing what you have told me to keep 
secret.’’ 

‘‘H’m! h’m! h’m!” murmured the other, frown- 
ing, ‘hhere is that objection certainly. We must 
put out our sprat to catch the mackerel. However, 
it wants three days till Saturday, so I shall 
see Moon and hear what he suggests about the 
matter. The Inderwicks are poor, aren’t they, 
Alan?” 

"There is only one Inderwick left,” answered 
the young solicitor, rising to stretch his limbs, ""and 
that is Marie. Of course she is desperately poor, 
as I told you ages ago. She has The Monastery, 
the few acres of the park, and two hundred a year 
to live on. Sorley is her mother’s brother, her 
uncle and guardian, with another two hundred in- 
come. By pooling the cash, the two manage to keep 
things going.” 

""H’m ! It’s a dull life for the girl. Do you like 
Mr. Sorley?” 

""No,” replied Fuller serenely. ""He’s a selfish old 
animal, who only regards Marie as a necessary piece 
of furniture. She was at school for many years 
and only. returned home some twelve months ago. 
Now she acts as her uncle’s housekeeper, and leads 
an infernally dull life. Mr. Sorley never seems to 
think that Marie is young and requires enjoyment. 
He’s a beast.” 

""Ho,” chuckled Dick shrewdly, ""you seem to 
dislike him excessively. I can easily see that he 
doesn’t favour your suit.” 

""No, hang him, he doesn’t. If Marie married 
me, the old man would be left with his two him- 


20 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


dred a year to get on as best he could, and you may 
be jolly well sure, Dicky, that he doesn^t want to 
leave the big house/' 

“Natural enough," yawned Latimer. “Well, my 
son, you help Moon to hunt down Orison's assassin 
and recover the fetish of the Inderwicks and per- 
haps the old man, out of gratitude, may accept you 
as a nephew-indaw." 

“It's worth trying for at all events," said Alan 
thoughtfully. “Marie's an angel, and I'm bound to 
marry her sooner or later. I’ll go down on Satur- 
day and start operations." 


CHAPTER II 


AT THE VICARAGE 

Alan Fuller thoughtfully tucked the rug round 
his knees in the third-class compartment of the train 
which was taking him to Belstone. There was no 
station at the village, but the Brighton express 
stopped at Lewes, and thence he could walk or drive 
to his destination. The young man was in tip-top 
spirits, as the suggestion of Latimer that he should 
join in the search for Grison’s assassin, and secure 
. the return of the peacock fetish to^ Marie Inderwick, 
rendered him hopeful that success in this direction 
would lead to his marriage with the girl. Of course 
that could not take place for some time since he 
was not yet making a sufficient income to justify 
his becoming the husband of the most adorable girl 
in the universe. Still, if Mr. Sorley would with- 
draw his absurd opposition — and he probably would 
do so, were the peacock recovered — Alan concluded 
that he might become officially engaged to Marie, 
and so she would not be snapped up by other suit- 
ors. Legally speaking he would have a lien on 
her. 

Not that this was really needed, since Marie loved 
him as much as he loved her, but the position would 
be more satisfactory to both if matters were ar- 
ranged on this basis, and in a practical way. After 
all, Marie was young and impressionable, and if 
Mr. Sorley found a rich man anxious to become the 
husband of his lovely niece he might, and probably 
21 


22 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


would, worry her into accepting the suitor. Marie 
would fight — Alan was quite positive on this point 
— but she might be worn out by her uncle’s per- 
sistence, and Fuller knew well enough that the old 
man was as obstinate as a mule, when once he set 
his mind on achieving a certain end. On the whole 
then, Alan was pleased that chance had thrown in 
his way an opportunity of doing Mr Sorley a ser- 
vice, as a benefit conferred would undoubtedly 
soften him. Certainly the peacock belonged to 
Marie, but — looking upon it, as she would, as a mere 
ornament — she probably would not mind its remain- 
ing in her uncle’s possession when it was found. 
And Sorley was a fanatic about jewels : their glitter 
and rainbow hues seemed to send him crazy with 
delight. To recover the radiant splendor of tlie 
peacock, he would assuredly concede much and Alan 
felt quite sufe that consent to his marriage with the 
girl would not be withheld. But everything de- 
pended upon the tracing of the miserable Orison’s 
assassin and that was not an easy task. 

Before leaving London, Fuller had visited In- 
spector Moon at his Rotherhithe office, along with 
Latimer, and the policeman had been greatly inter- 
ested in the fact that the solicitor knew the original 
possessors of the article for which Orison had appar- 
ently been murdered. He had also been astonished, 
and with good reason, at the coincidence that Lati- 
mer, to whom he had spoken about Jotty’s evidence, 
should have a friend who was — so to speak — mixed 
up in the matter of the peacock. Since Fate ap- 
peared to point out Fuller as an active agent in 
bringing this unknown murderer to justice, through 
the instrumentality of the stolen ornament. Moon 
had readily given the young man pennission to 
speak of the matter to Mr. Sorley and to Marie. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


23 


Meanwhile the inspector still continued to hunt for 
the trail, but without success. The assassin had 
come and gone in the crowd which inhabited Mother 
Slaig’s boarding-house entirely unnoticed, and now 
that Grison was buried in the Belstone churchyard 
as arranged by his sister, it appeared as if the 
Rotherhithe murder would have to be relegated to 
the list of undiscovered crimes. Further revela- 
tions depended either on the chance that the crim- 
inal would pawn or sell what he had risked his neck 
to obtain, or on some evidence procured from Marie 
and Sorley, relative to the peacock. Where had it 
originally come from? who had manufactured it? 
why did the Inderwick family regard it as a fetish ? 
and finally, why had Grison stolen it ? These were 
the questions which Fuller came down to Belstone 
to ask. 

It was therefore no wonder that, since Alan's 
future happiness depended upon his success in solv- 
ing so deep a mystery, he should be thoughtful on 
the journey to Belstone. Dick and he had talked 
a great deal about the matter but, for want of fur- 
ther evidence could arrive at no conclusion. Until 
Mr. Sorley explained about the peacock, and stated 
what he knew concerning Grison, there was nothing 
more to be done. Alan thought that the uncle would 
probably know more than the niece, since she had 
been an infant in arms when the fetish had been 
stolen. All the same he resolved to question Marie 
first, on the chance that she might know something, 
and upon what she stated would depend his future 
plans. The young man did not like Mr. Sorley, not 
only because that gentleman thwarted his marriage 
with Marie, but also for the very simple reason that 
he mistrusted Sorley's character. His eyes were 
too shifty; his manners were too suave; and al- 


24 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


though he always wished to know the private affairs 
of everyone else, he never by any chance confessed 
anything that had to do with himself. It was neces- 
sary on these grounds, as Fuller considered, to deal 
with Marie’s uncle in a wary manner. 

In due course the train stopped at Lewes, and 
Alan got out with the intention of walking the five 
miles to Belstone. He had only a gladstone bag 
containing a few necessary articles for a Saturday-* 
to-Monday’s stay in the country, since he invariably 
kept a supply of clothes at his home. With a nod 
to the station-master, to whom he was well-known, 
Fuller left the station, and ignoring the application 
of several cabmen, struck at an angle to reach 
the high road. He was soon on the hard metal and 
walked along swiftly and easily swinging his bag, 
glad of the exercise to grow warm again, as the day 
was cold and he was chilled from sitting in the 
train. As it was now the end of November there 
was a slight grey fog spreading its veil over the sur- 
rounding country, and the sun was conspicuous by 
its absence. But that Alan thought of Marie’s 
bright face, which he would be certain to see smil- 
ing before him on this day or the next, he would 
have been depressed by the want of sunshine. But 
what lover who hopes to look into the eyes of the 
girl he adores within a specified number of hours 
can feel down-hearted, however gloomy the skies 
or moist the earth? Not Alan Fuller, who moved 
on to his much-desired goal with love songs hum- 
ming in his active brain. And the burden of these 
was ‘‘Marie ! Marie ! Marie !” with the delicious name 
joined to the most eulogistic adjectives in the Eng- 
lish tongue. 

It was when he was almost within sight of Bel- 
stone village that the motor bicycle came along. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


2'5 


Alan heard the buzz of the machine round the cor- 
ner and stood aside to let it pass, indifferent to its 
coming and going. But when he saw a slim old 
man with an ascetic, clean-shaven face, smartly 
dressed in a grey suit with brown gaiters, seated 
thereon, he both started and called out in his 
surprise. 

“Mr. Sorley. This is unexpected. You on a 
bicycle ?’’ 

The rider shut off the motive power and brought 
his machine to a standstill a few yards past the 
young man. “You are astonished,’’ he said, com- 
ing back wheeling the bicycle. “Well, Alan, I don’t 
wonder at it. At the age of sixty, it is not many 
people who would risk their brittle bones in this 
way.’’ 

“No, indeed,” replied Fuller, staring at Mr. 
Sorley’s fresh complexion and closely-cropped 
white hair surmounted by a very juvenile tweed 
cap. “And I thought you were such an indoor 
man.” 

“Pooh ! pooh ! pooh !” said Sorley good-humored- 
ly. “You know how particular I am about ex- 
ercise, Alan. I walk every day a certain distance 
in order to keep myself in health. For years I have 
slipped out to range the park; but with increasing 
age should come increasing activity, so, I have 
bought this,” he shook the machine, “and already 
— in three weeks that is — I have learned to ride 
it without fear. I can explore the country now, 
and intend to do so, my dear lad. The park is too 
small for me, and I must take all the exercise pos- 
sible if I wish to keep my looks and vitality. In- 
creasing age: increasing activity,” said Mr. Sorley 
again, “there you are.” 

“Increasing age generally means sitting by the 


26 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


fire and going to bed early, sir,’' replied Alan dryly, 
‘‘don’t overdo it.” 

“My boy, there is nothing so objectionable as 
advice.” 

“I beg your pardon. I only thought ” 

“Then don’t think on my behalf at all events,” 
snapped Mr. Sorley, who appeared rather ruffled by 
Fuller’s reflection on his age. “When you come to 
my years, Alan, I doubt if you will look so healthy 
as I do.” 

The young man mentally admitted that it was 
possible he might not wear so well. Sorley was 
a marvel of preservation, and although he had 
turned sixty certainly did not look more than forty- 
five at the most, save for his white hair. His face 
was almost without wrinkles; his form, spare and 
lean, was unbowed, and the up-to-date clothes he 
always affected gave him quite a youthful air at a 
distance. In fact he was a very handsome man in 
an elderly way, and but for his shifty eyes and slack 
mouth — these marred his appearance considerably 
— he would have impressed people even more than 
he already did. But with all his juvenile aspect and 
ingratiating ways, there was something untrust- 
worthy about the man. At least Alan thought so, 
and had always thought so, but perhaps he might 
have been more observant than the usual run of 
humanity, for Marie’s uncle was extremely popular, 
although his usual life was somewhat after the style 
of a hermit. But this Mr. Sorley ascribed less to 
inclination than to the want of money, since he 
humorously said that he and Marie, unable to 
make both ends meet, had to make one end vege- 
tables. 

“You are wonderful, Mr. Sorley,” said Alan, 
hastening to soothe the old man’s easily hurt vanity. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


2y 


“1 never saw you look better. How do you man- 
age to knock all these years off your age ?” 

‘^Abstention from over-drinking and over-eat- 
ing/’ said Mr. Sorley briskly, giving his recipe for 
everlasting youth. “An hour’s sleep in the after- 
noon and plenty of it at night. Cold tubs, dumb- 
bell exercises in the altogether as Trilby says with 
the window open, judicious walks and an optimistic 
way of looking at things. There you are,” he ended 
with his favourite catch-phrase as usual. 

“Now you must add trips 'on a motor bicycle,” 
laughed Alan, smiling.” By the way, how is 
Marie?’’ 

“Blooming as a rose, fresh as a daisy, cheerful 
as a lark,” prattled Mr. Sorley, with a swift and not 
altogether approving glance at the speaker’s face. 
“She’ll be getting married soon. I can’t expect to 
keep such beauty and grace hidden from the world. 
And she must make a good match, my lad” — this 
was for Alan’s particular benefit as the young man 
knew very well — “a title and money, good looks 
and a landed estate, with brains added. That is the 
suitor I have chosen for Marie.” 

“You are looking for a bird of paradise,” said 
Fuller, coloring at the hint conveyed, “does such 
perfection exist in a mere human being?” 

“I hope so; I hope so,” said Sorley, still cheery 
and still shifty in his glance, “we must look for the 
rarity, my lad. But I’m in no hurry to lose Marie. 
She is a great comfort to her old uncle. I was 
annoyed the other day, greatly annoyed, and she 
talked me into quite a good humor.” 

“What annoyed you, sir?” asked Fuller, not be- 
cause he cared, but merely from a desire to chat 
about Miss Inderwick. 

“A funeral which took place in the village.” 


28 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


“Oh, Baldwin Orison’s funeral?” 

Sorley brought his shifty green eyes to the young 
man’s face. “What do you know about Baldwin 
Orison?” he asked sharply, and, as it seemed to 
Alan’s suspicious nature, rather uneasily. 

“All that the newspapers could tell me, Mr. Sor- 
ley. He was murdered at Rotherhithe by some un- 
known person, and his sister brought the body down 
here for burial in the village churchyard.” 

“That last wasn’t in the newspapers,” retorted 
the other quickly and looking everywhere but at 
Alan’s face. 

“No, it wasn’t. But my friend Latimer— you 
may remember meeting him at the vicarage, Mr. 
Sorley — was at the inquest and afterwards spoke to 
Miss Orison, who told him of her intention.” 

“Did she tell him also that her brother was my 
secretary twenty years ago, Alan?” demanded Sor- 
ley, his face growing red and his eyes glittering. 
“Did she say how he was turned out of the house as 
a drunken swine?” 

“Miss Orison hinted something of those things 
at the inquest, but did not go into details, and, as 
they were unnecessary, she was not pressed. But 
she told Latimer that her brother had been dis- 
charged by you for some reason.” 

“He was a hard drinker, and also smoked opium,” 
said Sorley angrily. “I did what I could for him, 
but had to discharge him in the long run. That 
woman had no right to bring the body here and 
bury it under my nose, as it might be. Decency 
should have prevented her bringing back the man to 
a place whence he was kicked out twenty years 
ago.” 

“She didn’t bring back the man, but his remains, 
sir.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


29 


'It would have been better had she thrown those 
into a London ditch/' replied Sorley tartly. "Grison 
was a bad servant to me and a bad brother to her 
and a profligate animal. I don't wonder he was 
murdered." 

"Can you suggest any motive for the commission 
of the crime?" asked Fuller, looking straightly at 
the elder man. 

"Grison was a drunkard, an opium-smoker, a liar 
and a loafer. A man like that must have made 
many enemies, and in the low slum he lived in he 
certainly risked what has, in the end, happened. 
The wonder is that he was not murdered before, 
Alan." 

"Well, he had one good point,'^ said Fuller mean- 
ingly and to force confidence if possible on the part 
of Sorley. "He wasn't a thief." 

"Can you prove that he was not ?" 

"Can you prove that he was?" demanded Alan 
in his turn. "At all events you omitted that par- 
ticular crime from your category." 

"The poor devil's dead and I don’t wish to say 
more about him than I have already stated,” said 
Sorley moodily, and beginning to start his machine, 
"but I trust that his silly sister will not come and 
worry me." 

"Why should she?" asked Fuller, noticing that 
the man before him evaded the question of Grison 
being a thief. 

"There's no reason in the world why she should, 
except that she was infatuated with her brother 
and believed that I had discharged him unjustly. I 
shouldn't be surprised if she came to tell me that 
again, by word of mouth as she has told me dozens 
of times by letter. She ascribed Grison’s downfall 
to me, and was always asking me to assist him 


30 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


when he was at Rotherhithe during the last twenty 
years. Of course I didn’t, both because I am poor 
as you know, Alan, and for the simple reason that 
Grison was not worth helping. I was his best 
friend, and far from bringing about his downfall I 
did my best to keep him straight. But all in vain: 
all in vain. He became quite a scandal in the place 
and Mrs. Inderwick, my sister, insisted that I should 
get rid of him. I did so, and he went to the dogs 
entirely. So there you are, Alan, my boy, and I 
can’t stay here all day talking about a matter which 
annoys me intensely.” 

By this time the machine was alive with energy 
and Mr. Sorley swung himself into the saddle as 
he ended his voluble speech. With a nod he set 
the starting gear in motion, and almost instan- 
taneously was a dot on the horizon travelling 
towards Lewes at the speed of a swallow. Alan 
looked after him thoughtfully, and tried to arrive 
at some conclusion regarding his apparently frank 
speech. By the time he reached the vicarage he 
came to one resolution at least, and that was to say 
nothing for the present to Mr. Sorley about the 
peacock. The young man could scarcely decide him- 
self what made him refrain from speaking, save 
that the old gentleman’s manner and vague speech 
communicated to him a sort of uneasy feeling, 
which hinted that reticence was wise for the time 
being. It might have been some sixth sense which 
induced the decision, for Fuller certainly could not 
argue out the matter logically. However, he deter- 
mined to obey the intuition, and to avoid making 
a confidant of the uncle, while speaking freely of 
his errand to the niece. There was no feeling in 
his mind against discussing with Marie the theft 
of the peacock as the possible motive for the murder 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


31 


of the man her relative seemed to detest so 
thoroughly. 

As usual the young man received the warmest of 
welcomes from his parents, who adored their only 
son and thought him the most wonderful person in 
the world. The vicar assuredly did not worship the 
marvellous boy so devotedly as did Mrs. Fuller; 
nevertheless he took a great pride in Alan’s hand- 
some looks and clever brains and general good con- 
duct. He was a bright-eyed, rosy-faced little man, 
who scarcely came up to his tall son’s shoulder, 
with a kindly nature, which was always being im- 
posed upon. His wife, a sweet-faced old lady, tall, 
grey-haired, and singularly graceful, was more 
practical in many ways than her husband. She 
checked the vicar’s too generous way of dealing with 
those who took advantage of his lavish kindness, 
and was the true ruling power in the house. Her 
weak point was Alan, and she often sighed to think 
that he would never find a woman worthy to be his 
wife. A dozen of the best women in the world 
rolled into one perfect creature would never have 
come up to the standard she had set up in her own 
mind which the future Mrs. Alan Fuller was to 
reach. 

Alan always enjoyed his home visits, not only 
because he loved his parents with a tenderness and 
respect rare in these modern days of revolt against 
domestic authority, but also on account of the quiet 
and well-ordered life which made the vicarage so 
uncommonly pleasant. Mrs. Fuller was a famous 
housewife, and manged her establishment with such 
rare tact that she kept, her servants for years. Her 
husband’s income was not a large one, but no one 
would have guessed this, seeing the perfectly ap- 
pointed dinner-table and the dainty meal prepared. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


The vicar's wife had brought to her husband by 
way of dowry a quantity of valuable old furniture, 
so that every room looked graciously beautiful. 
And as the house was quaint and old, and kept in 
perfect repair and order, those not in the secret of 
the income believed that the Fullers had ample 
means. But everything grateful to the eye and the 
touch and the palate was due to the ^Vicaress," as 
her husband jocularly called her. The worst-tem- 
pered person in the world would have succumbed 
to the soothing influences which permeated the place. 

‘'Home, home, sweet, sweet home,” hummed 
Alan, when the trio sat in the fragrant old drawing- 
room after an admirable dinner. "Mother darling, 
you have no idea how restful this is, after the noise 
and bustle of London.” 

Mrs. Fuller smiled from her favorite chair, and 
went on with her tatting, busy as a bee, for she was 
rarely idle. In her silver-grey dress with a lace cap 
of dainty gossamer resting on her white hair, worn 
cast back after the style of Marie Antoinette, and 
her old-fashioned set of amethyst ornaments, she 
looked singularly charming. In the subdued light 
which came through the pink lampshades she looked 
like some gentle ghost of early Victorian days, 
soothingly womanly and motherly. She had grown 
old gracefully, and as the diamonds flashed from 
her rings while she tatted diligently Alan thought 
what a delightful gentlewoman she looked, placid, 
dignified and gracious. 

It was the vicar who answered his son's question, 
although Alan had scarcely put his remark as such. 
"Ah, my boy, you'd soon grow weary of this drowsy 
place, and would long for the crowded hour of 
glorious life. It is the contrast that makes you 
appreciate our Eden." 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


33 


Mrs. Fuller nodded her approval. ‘‘White always 
shows up best against black.’' 

“Well, you have had some London black down 
here lately, mother.” And when she looked at him 
inquiringly, Alan continued, “I mean the funeral.” 

The vicar’s face grew sad. “Yes! yes! That 
was indeed an unpleasant reminder of what lies 
beyond our quiet hills. Poor Grison and poor Lou- 
isa too! I do not know which I am most sorry 
for.” 

“For Louisa?” said Mrs. Fuller, raising her quiet 
eyes. “You need not be sorry for her, John. She 
did her duty and more than her duty by that poor 
creature who has gone to his account, so she has 
nothing to reproach herself with. I am glad she is 
staying for a few days, as I wish to have a talk with 
her.” 

“Is Miss Grison staying here then?” asked Alan, 
wondering if it would be worth while to look her 
up. 

“At Mrs. Millington’s, the dressmaker, my dear. 
She and Louisa were close friends twenty years 
and more ago.” 

“That was when Grison was secretary to Mr. 
Sorley.” 

“Yes,” chimed in the vicar. “But who told you 
about that, my boy?” 

“Miss Grison spoke about it at the inquest and 
also to Dick and Inspector Moon, father. Then I 
met Mr. Sorley on my way here and he told me that 
he had employed the man, but had to get rid of 
him for drink, and ” 

“I don’t think that is true,” interrupted Mrs. 
Fuller with some indignation in her usually gentle 
voice. “Poor Baldwin — we called him so when he 
was a young man — did not drink to excess, although 


34 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


he certainly took more than was good for him at 
times/' 

“Then why was he discharged?" 

“I cannot say, Alan, nor can anyone else. Louisa 
knows, but she would never tell me. But Mr. Sor- 
ley was much to blame in throwing Baldwin on the 
world without a character, since he was too weak 
to stand by himself. Louisa did what she could, 
but he fell from bad to worse until — alas! alas! 
Tell me, Alan, has anything been discovered as to 
who killed him?" 

“Not yet, mother. You have read the papers." 

“Oh yes. Louisa sent all the reports down to 
your father and to me, knowing that we took a deep 
interest in Baldwin. Don’t you remember him, 
Alan? You were a little boy of six or seven 
then." 

Alan shook his head. “I have a faint recollec- 
tion only, mother. A little man, wasn’t he, with 
fair hair and blue eyes ? But there, I may have got 
that impression from Dick’s description. He saw; 
the corpse." 

“Don’t talk about such things, Alan," said the 
vicar hastily. “It worries your mother : she is very 
impressionable. Let us be thankful that the poor 
creature has been brought back to lie in our quiet 
churchyard. As to the person who murdered him, 
he will suffer for his sin in God’s good time." 

“I doubt if the truth will ever be discovered," 
said Alan with a shrug. “By the way, father, do 
you remember that peacock of jewels which was 
the fetish or luck of the Inderwicks?" 

Not knowing what connection there was between 
the murder of Grison and the ornament in question, 
the vicar thought that the apparently irrelevant in- 
quiry was made by his son in obedience to his re- 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


35 


quest that the crime should not be discussed in the 
presence of Mrs. Fuller. '‘Everyone in the village, 
if not in the county, knows about the peacock,” he 
said with an approving smile, "but as to its bringing 
luck, I do not believe in such superstitions, my boy.” 

"Perhaps not,” said his wife quietly, "but you 
must confess, John, that since what the Inderwicks 
call their luck has been missing nothing has gone 
well with them — that is with Marie, who alone 
represents the family.” 

"Nonsense, my dear. Marie is young, healthy, 
pretty, and happy enough in her own way, as Sor- 
ley is kindness itself to her. There’s no bad luck 
haunting the girl so far as I can see.” 

"No, of course not. But I allude rather to her 
poverty. The Inderwicks used to be rich, and Mrs. 
Inderwick was left comparatively well off. Then 
she lost her money when Marie was born, and after- 
wards died.” 

"Inderwick — Marie’s father, that is — should not 
have made Sorley trustee, for he is, and always was 
a bad business man. He acted honestly enough, I 
daresay, but even with his sister’s consent he should 
never have speculated as he did. No wonder the 
money was lost.” 

"What were the speculations ?” asked Alan. 

"Land in Australia — in Melbourne chiefly, I 
believe. There was a big land boom there, over 
twenty years ago. Then everything failed and bank 
after bank went smash. Before Sorley could get 
a letter or even a telegram out, everything was gone. 
However, Marie has The Monastery and the park 
and sufficient to keep her in food and dress, so she 
can’t grumble.” 

"Marie never does grumble,” said Mrs. Fuller 
decidedly, "she is the brightest person I know. But 


36 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


it’s a dull life for a young girl at The Monastery. 
She ought to have a season in London and be pre- 
sented at Court and have an opportunity,” here she 
stole a shy glance at Alan’s expressive face, ‘‘of 
making a good match. With Marie’s blood and 
looks she should secure a title.” 

“Well, perhaps she will, when the peacock returns 
to bring back the luck,” said Alan, refusing to be 
drawn into an argument with his mother over 
Marie. 

“It will never be found,” said the vicar positively. 

“How was it lost, father?” 

“I can’t tell you. But it has been missing twenty 
years and is not likely to reappear. Marie can do 
very well without it. Such superstition is ridiculous. 
And now we must have prayers,” ended Mr. Fuller 
inconsequently. His wife looked up amused, since 
she knew that he acted thus because he had no 
patience with her belief in the peacock as a fetish. 

And while prayers were being said Alan won- 
dered if the peacock would ever reappear, in spite 
of his father’s doubts, to influence Marie’s destiny. 


CHAPTER III 


A STORY OF THE PAST 

The ancient village of Belstone, hidden in a fold of 
low-lying, undulating hills, is inhabited chiefly by 
agricultural laborers. One irregular street, four 
or five narrow lanes, and a few behind-the-time 
shops, together with many small cottages, consti- 
tute this sequestered hamlet. There are a great 
number of farms and several country seats in the 
district, but those who own them usually buy the 
necessaries of life at Lewes, so Belstone cannot 
depend upon trade for its support. The villagers, 
however, do not mind this neglect, as they are 
sleepy-headed and indifferent to all, so long as they 
earn sufficient for bed and board. The sole houses 
of any note are the vicarage at one end of the vil- 
lage, and the great mansion of the Inderwicks at 
the other. Formerly the owners of The Monastery 
— as the place is called — were Lords of the Manor, 
but, as their property has dwindled to a few acres, 
the title has passed to a modern and more prosper- 
ous family. The Inderwicks, formerly so rich and 
powerful, are now of small account amongst the 
gentry of the county. 

The Rev. John Fuller always maintained that the 
prehistoric name of the village was Baalstone, and 
that it was so termed after an altar or stone to Baal 
or Bel, a deity whom the Phoenicians had introduced 
into Britain. But it is more than questionable 
whether these sea-rovers ever traded so far as Sus- 
sex, and Mr. Fuller’s assumption can be taken for 


38 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


what it is worth, although he held stoutly to his 
opinion. But be this as it may undoubtedly there 
was a Druidical temple where the big house now 
stands, later a shrine to Diana, and afterwards an 
altar to Woden, until early Christian missionaries 
built on the same spot a primitive flint and mortar 
church. Finally came a Benedictine monastery, 
which lasted until the reign of that arch-iconoclast, 
Henry VIII. From the expelled monks it had 
passed into the possession of Nicholas Inderwick, 
one of Cromwell’s favorite gentlemen, and had 
been owned by his descendants ever since. The 
spot had therefore always been a holy one, until 
secularised in the days of the great Tudor monarch, 
and perhaps for this reason had never brought good 
fortune to the Inderwicks, who had built up what 
prosperity they had attained to on the ruin of sacred 
things and the misfortunes of sacred people. Cer- 
tainly evil luck had followed them for generations : 
they had lost land, money, position and authority, 
and their family tree had been cut down root and 
branch, until only one feeble twig sprouted from 
the mouldering trunk. Marie Inderwick was the 
last descendant of the ancient line, and dwelt in the 
house of her ancestors on a penurious income which 
barely sufficed to keep her in food and fire and 
clothes. And when she married, or died, it was to 
be expected that the family name would vanish 
from the land. 

All these things Alan knew very well, as all his 
life they had been talked about in the village and at 
the vicarage. There was also a prophecy of an 
expelled monk dating over three hundred years ago, 
which promised renewed prosperity to the Inder- 
wicks when their fortunes were lowest. The young 
man could not think how much lower the fortunes 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


39 


could sink, and wondered as he strolled towards the 
monastery, if now was the appointed time for the 
fulfilment of the ancient saying: — 

“When most is lost and most are dead, 

The spoilers then shall raise their head. 

Jewels and gold from over-seas, 

Will bring them peace and joy and ease.” 

Of course Alan in his reading of the prophecy 
modernized the antique diction. There was much 
more of it, but only Marie knew the whole of Fate’s 
decree, and was accustomed to repeat it hopefully 
when she felt down-hearted. She always insisted 
that sooner or later the curse pronounced on the 
Inderwicks by the monk would be removed. 

As there was no money to keep things in order, 
the place was woefully neglected. The great iron 
gates which swung from pillars surmounted by the 
Inderwick escutcheon in the grip of tall dragons had 
not been opened for many years, and access to the 
park was gained through a small side entrance set 
in the mouldering brick wall which encircled the 
domain. The park itself was so overgrown and 
wild and tangled and savage that it might have been 
that very wood which shut in the enchanted palace 
of the Sleeping Beauty. Alan dreamed that it 
might be so, and that he might be the fairy prince 
destined to awaken Marie to a new life. And in- 
deed since she loved him, and he adored her, he had 
succeeded so far; but how her fortunes were to be 
mended at the present juncture he could not see. 
Yet had he been gifted with psychic powers he 
would have known more or less positively that he 
was on the eve of entering a new lane down which 
he would lead the girl towards happiness and pros- 
perity. 


40 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


A short brisk walk up the neglected avenue 
brought Fuller into the wide open space wherein 
was placed the great mansion. Some portions of 
the original monastery remained, but during hun- 
dreds of years it had been so altered that the monks 
would have had some difficulty in recognizing their 
former habitation. Parts of the building had been 
pulled down and other parts built up, that had been 
altered and this had been permited to remain in its 
original state, so that the old house presented an 
incongruous appearance which could be ascribed to 
no particular epoch of architecture. With its walls 
of grey flint, brown stone, red brick, and here and 
there blocks of white marble somewhat soiled by 
wind and rain and sunshine, it looked singularly 
picturesque. And the whole was overgrown with 
ivy, dank and green and wonderfully luxuriant, 
since it was never trimmed and never cut. The big 
building looked as though it were bound to the soil 
by the tough tendrils and what with the rank coarse 
grasses and the trees which grew right up to the 
walls, it might have been part and parcel of the 
earth itself, so swathed was it in greenery. There 
was something noble and austere about the dwelling 
befitting perhaps the Benedictines who had dwelt 
in it at one time, but it looked altogether too sombre 
and unwholesome to shelter the fair head of Marie 
Inderwick, who was all smiles and sunshine. And 
as Alan advanced towards the huge porch which was 
supported on twisted pillars, she unexpectedly made 
her appearance like a gleam of light shooting across 
a thunderous sky. It was Alan the lover, and not 
Fuller the lawyer, who made this poetic comparison. 

"‘Darling! darling!” cried Marie, running down 
the broken steps with outstretched hands. “I knew 
you would come. But how late you are! I saw 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


41 


you in the church this morning, and have been 
expecting you all the afternoon. It is* now three 
o’clock and only at this moment do you put in an 
appearance. No, I won’t be kissed. Uncle may be 
at the window and would make trouble, as he always 
does. Besides you don’t deserve a kiss, when you 
neglect me so.” 

“I shall take one for all that,” said Alan, suiting 
the action to the word, ‘‘and in spite of possible 
dragon eyes at the window.” 

“But your neglect,” pouted Marie, playing with 
his necktie, arranging it and rearranging it after 
the manner of women whose fingers must always 
be busy. 

“Dearest, I stayed for the midday communion, 
and when I came out you had gone home with your 
uncle.” 

“He hurried me away, Alan. He’s always very 
particular to keep an eye on me when you come 
down.” 

“Undoubtedly. He wants you to marry a title.” 

Marie shrugged her shoulders in a French fashion 
which she had acquired from a Parisian school 
friend at the Brighton seminary. “As if anyone 
would marry a pauper like me.” 

“I think any man who has an eye for the beauti- 
ful would only be too glad to marry such a lovely 
pauper.” 

“That’s nice. Say it again and slowly.” 

“A lovely pauper, an adorable pauper, an 
angelic ” 

“Stop! stop! You flatter too much. You don’t 
mean what you say.” 

“Not a word,” confessed Alan candidly. 

Marie grew red and her eyes flashed. “Then 
how dare you say such things!” 


42 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘‘You expect me to and you shouldn’t fish.” 

“In shallow water? Certainly not! Alan Eric 
Reginald Fuller,” she gave him his complete name 
and pinched his arm, “you are a bear.” 

“Bears hug,” said the lover, taking her in his 
arms. 

“Oh, my gracious, you will get me into trouble,” 
cried Marie, extricating herself with some difficulty 
and flying across the lawn, followed hot-footed by 
Alan. “Come and hide out of sight of those horrid 
windows. Uncle Ran is sure to see us otherwise, 
and will order me indoors. Come ! come,” she sang 
like a siren and fled after the fashion of Atalanta 
into the woods. 

The trees were bare of leaves, but here and there 
a fir stood up green and sombre, while the under- 
growth of brambles and grass and ferns and vari- 
ous weeds had not yet lost their autumnal tints so 
that the park did not as yet look entirely wintry. 
The day was warm too for late November, and pale 
sunshine irradiated the grey depths of the sky, so 
that the birds had plucked up heart to sing, perhaps 
in the hope of averting coming snows. At top- 
speed Marie flew down a side path which twisted 
and straightened at intervals for a considerable dis- 
tance until it ended in a kind of sunken dell in the 
centre of which was a circle of cemented stones 
rising slightly above the fading herbage. Over this 
was a wooden canopy of ancient appearance with a 
tiled red roof weather-worn and mellow, and be- 
neath, a deep hole which seemed to penetrate into 
the bowels of the earth. This was St. Peter’s Dell 
and St. Peter’s Well since the monastery had been 
dedicated to the chief of the Apostles. Marie loved 
the spot, and haunted it in summer for the sake of 
its coolness. Now she came because she knew that 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


43 


her philanderings with the forbidden lover would 
not be seen by anyone. 

‘‘And Uncle Ran is asleep/' she explained as she 
perched herself on the ragged rim of stones. “He 
always sleeps for an hour in the afternoon, because 
he says that it keeps him alive." 

“I wish it didn’t,” growled Alan, placing himself 
beside the girl, and putting an arm round her, 
probably to prevent her from falling into the depths. 
“I don’t like your Uncle Ran, dear.” 

“Since he won’t let you make love to me, I can 
quite understand that,” said Marie rather pertly; 
“but he’s all the relative I have so I must make the 
best of him, Alan. But you haven’t told me how I 
am looking.” 

“Why, I’ve used at least a dozen adjectives. But 
I shall examine you carefully, darling, and give you 
my honest opinion.” \ 

Taking her chin in his hand, he turned her face 
upward, and looked into the happy blue eyes. 
Marie was indeed a very pretty girl, although not 
perhaps so superlatively lovely as Alan imagined. 
Her face would never have launched a thousand 
ships, or set fire to Troy Town. But her complexion 
was transparent and as delicately tinted as a rose, 
with the dewy look, so to speak, of that flower at 
dawn. Her hair was golden and waved over her 
white forehead in rebellious little curls. Then she 
had sapphire eyes and a straight little Greek nose, 
and two fresh red lips, which seemed to invite the 
kiss Alan now bestowed. As her figure was wrapped 
up in a heavy fur cloak of great antiquity, it could 
not be seen at the moment, but Alan, who was well 
acquainted with its suave contours, knew that it was 
the most perfect figure in the three kingdoms, as her 
hands and feet were the smallest and most well 


44 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


shaped. But what really drew his heart to Marie 
was her sweet expression and candid looks. Some 
women — few, of course — might have possessed 
Marie's items of beauty in the shape of form and 
coloring, but no one, and Alan said this aloud with 
great decision, ever owned such heavenly smiles or 
could give such tender glances. Marie sighed and 
approved of the praise and nestled her head against 
his rough frieze overcoat. 

‘‘You always tell the truth, darling," she said, 
after he had assured her that she was something 
higher than an angel. 

“Always!" Alan kissed her again for the tenth 
time. “And now I want you to tell me the truth, 
Marie." 

She looked up somewhat puzzled. “About 
what?" 

“About the peacock of jewels, which " 

The girl drew away from his encircling arm and 
slipped to the ground. “ Why do you want to speak 
about that?" she asked, standing before him and 
looking as charming as the Queen of Sheba when 
she visited Solomon ; “it was lost before I was born, 
and no one ever speaks of it. Except Uncle Ran," 
she added with an afterthought, “he loves jewels, as 
you know, and always regrets the loss, although the 
peacock belongs to me and not to him." 

“Marie," said Alan again and gravely, “come and 
sit down, as I have something important to tell you 
which you must not repeat to your uncle until I give 
you leave." 

“I shall sit here," said Miss Inderwick, sinking on 
to the trunk of a fallen tree which was a few feet 
away, “and I wish you wouldn't look so solemn or 
talk about such things. You make me nervous." 

“There is nothing to be nervous about, my dear." 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


45 


'Then why am I not to repeat what you say to 
Uncle Ran?” demanded Marie in an inconsequent 
manner. 

"Because I think if Mr. Sorley got that peacock 
he would be greedy enough to keep it to himself.” 

"He couldn’t. It’s mine.” 

"He would, because he looks upon your property 
as his own.” 

"The peacock was left to me by my father’s will, 
along with the park and the house,” insisted Marie 
folding her hands pensively. "It was particularly 
mentioned because of the good fortune it will bring 
— ^that is when the secret is discovered.” 

"The secret. What secret?” Alan spoke almost 
sharply. 

"That connected with the golden peacock. You 
know the story?” 

"Only that there is such a fetish, which is sup- 
posed to be the luck of the Inderwicks.” 

"And has been for one hundred years and more. 
But the secret ” 

"I have heard nothing about that.” 

"Now I come to think of it, I daresay you haven’t. 
I only became acquainted with the real meaning of 
the peacock of jewels a year ago. I read all about 
it in a manuscript which I found in the library. 
When was the battle of Plassey, Alan?” 

"In 1757,’’ answered Fuller, who had a good 
memory for dates. 

"It was won by Lord Clive, wasn’t it ?” 

"Yes. But what has that to do with the 
peacock?” 

"A great deal, as you shall hear.” 

"One moment, Marie. Is this peacock of Indian 
workmanship?” 

"No. It was made by a man called Simon 


46 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


Ferrier, who was the servant of my great great 
great — I don’t know how many greats — grand- 
father.” 

“Let us say the grandfather who lived about the 
time of Plassey. What was his name?” 

“George Inderwick. He went to India to ” 

Here Marie broke off and looked at her lover 
searchingly. “But why do you ask about the 
peacock ?” 

“I’ll explain that when I have heard the legend.” 

“It isn’t a legend, but a true story, and you are 
very mysterious,” said the girl somewhat incoher- 
ently. “Well then, George Inderwick went out to 
India long before the battle of Plassey in the hope 
of restoring the family fortunes. He was only a 
younger brother and left The Monastery in posses- 
sion of Julian Inderwick. Things were very bad with 
the family then and they have been worse since. 
Now” — Marie sighed — “everything is lost unless 
the treasure is discovered.” 

“The treasure?” Alan looked excited. “Is there 
a treasure ?” 

“Of course, you stupid thing. That is the secret 
of the peacock.” 

Alan became exasperated by the way in which 
he had to drag things out of her and frowned. “I 
wish you would tell me the story clearly,” he said 
tartly. 

“I shall do so if you won’t interrupt so often,” 
retorted Marie. Then looking round the quiet dell, 
as if for inspiration, and finally finding it in the eager 
look in her lover’s eyes, she began the tale. “George 
went to India along wdth his servant, Simon Ferrier, 
who was his foster-brother ” 

“Wait a bit,” interrupted Fuller again. “Who 
^ wrote this manuscript ?” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


47 


“Simon Ferrier, and I won’t tell you anything if 
you keep asking questions, Alan. How can I speak 
when you talk?” 

“I am dumb, my dearest virago. Go on.” 

“Fm not a virago, you horrid boy. Well then, 
George went to Madras as a clerk of the East India 
Company, and was lent to some rajah to drill his 
army. He learned soldiering from Lord Clive, 
although he wasn’t Lord Clive at the time. Simon 
'went with George to some hill fort and palace and 
the two became quite friendly with the rajah. 
Then some enemy of the native prince they served 
stormed the palace or town or whatever it was, and 
killed the lot of them.” 

“Even George and Simon?” asked Alan, noting 
the loose way in which she was telling the tale, and 
privately deciding to ask for the manuscript, so that 
he might read it himself. 

“No, you silly. They were taken prisoners. But 
before the place was captured, the Begum — that’s 
the rajah’s wife — gave all her jewels to Mr. 
Inderwick, because he saved her life, and the life 
of her son. Simon hid them when he and his 
master were captured by the other king, or rajah, 
or ” 

“Never mind; say captured by the enemy.” 

“Oh, very well,” said Marie obediently, “when 
they were captured by the enemy. They were a 
long time in captivity, and George was forced to drill 
the native troops, while Simon was made to work 
as a jeweller.” 

“Why as a jeweller?” 

“Oh, it seems that he had been brought up in 
England as a watchmaker, and having mended some 
clock belonging to the enemy, he was set to work in 
a shop to make ornaments for the enemy’s wives. He 


48 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


learned how to make Indian ornaments and be- 
came very clever — at least he says so himself, but 
perhaps he was bragging.” 

“I don’t think so, if the stories about the beauty 
of the peacock he made are to be believed,” said 
Fuller thoughtfully, and recalling certain stories 
related by old village women who had set eyes on 
the ornament in question before it had disappeared. 
“Go on, dear. This is interesting.” 

“The most interesting part is to come,” replied 
Marie, nodding her small head with a wise air. 
“Simon managed to get away, and went back to 
where he had hidden the jewels. He dug them up 
and came to England ” 

“Leaving his master in captivity. How shabby of 
him.” 

“He only did what his master told him,” said 
Marie quickly. “He was to take the jewels to 
England and give them to Julian Inderwick so that 
the fortunes of the family might be restored. But 
Simon did not like Julian and found out that he was 
a spendthrift and a gambler. If he had given him 
the jewels they would have been wasted, and the 
Inderwicks would have been none the better for 
them. Simon therefore said nothing about his 
mission, but he hid the jewels and then returned to 
India to rejoin his master, who was now free and 
was fighting beside Lord Clive.” 

“Well, and what happened then?” 

“When the battle of Plassey was being fought, 
and before Simon could return to his master, he was 
taken prisoner by those who had before held him 
captive. They had come to know about the jewels, 
and insisted that he should tell where they were. 
Simon was even tortured to make him tell, but he 
refused to speak, so they grew tired and set him 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


49 


to work again, as a jeweller. It was then that he 
made the peacock.” 

“Why the peacock particularly?” 

“Because he wished to let George Inderwick know 
where the jewels of the Begum were hidden in 
England, and could only do so by indicating the 
place through this golden peacock.” 

“But in what way ?” 

“I don’t know. I can’t find out. Simon feared 
lest the secret should be discovered by the Indians 
and lest they should send someone to England to 
get back the gems. He therefore, as I say, made 
the peacock, and contrived to have it taken to George 
Inderwick through a native who was friendly to him. 
He then died, after writing the manuscript, telling 
his master that the secret was hidden in the peacock. 
He was murdered, I believe, as he says at the end 
of his manuscript that he expected to be put to death.” 

“But what was the use of sending the secret to 
George when It could not be guessed ?” 

“It was stupid,” admitted Marie thoughtfully, 
“since George never managed to find out from the 
peacock where the jewels were. In his anxiety to 
keep the secret from everyone but his master, Simon 
over-reached himself, and entirely forgot that 
George would find it as hard to learn the truth as 
anyone else into whose hands the peacock fell. How- 
ever, he died, and the ornament with the manuscript 
came to George. After the battle of Plassey George 
returned home with some money, and tried hard to 
learn the whereabouts of the jewels from the pea- 
cock. Julian by this time had died, so the younger 
brother succeeded to the estate^what there was left 
of it. He — George, I mean — was poor all his life, 
as he brought back very little from India, and all he 
could do was to keep what Julian had left.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


SO 


‘"Well?” asked Alan, seeing that she said no more. 

‘That is all. George left a .will saying that the 
jewels were to be found if the secret of the peacock 
was discovered. But Simon, in his desire to keep 
them safe, had hidden the truth too securely. Every- 
one has tried to find the truth, even Uncle Ran, for 
I asked him, but all have failed.’^ 

“How' much are the jewels worth ?’’ asked Fuller 
after a pause. 

“Oh,” Marie jumped up and spread her hands, 
“thousands and thousands of pounds, dear! One 
hundred thousand, two hundred thousand, I don’t 
know how much. There are rubies and emeralds 
and opals and diamonds and — and — ” she stopped 
for want of breath. “Isn’t it wonderful, Alan?” 

“Wonderful indeed,” admitted the young man. 

“So there is one or two hundred thousand pounds 
attached to the possession of the peacock of jewels 
if its secret can only be discovered. Hum! It’s 
worth risking one’s neck for.” 

Marie ran up and shook him by the arm. “How 
can you say such horrid things ?” 

“I am not talking of my own neck, Marie, but of 
that belonging to the man who murdered Baldwin 
Grison.” 

“Oh.” The girl stared. “I know that the poor 
man was murdered. Mrs. Millington — she’s the vil- 
lage dressmaker, and a friend of mine — told me 
about that crime. Louisa Grison was Mrs. Milling- 
ton’s bridesmaid, and they are very much attached, 
and — and — but, Alan, what has the peacock to do 
with this horrid murder?” 

“Much. Baldwin Grison was murdered, as I truly 
believe, so that his assassin might obtain it. Now 
listen, dear, and be sure you don’t repeat what 
I say to your uncle.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


51 


‘'No, I won’t. Though I don’t see why you want 
to keep things secret from him. Go on. What is 
it?” 

Fuller quickly and concisely told her all that he 
had learned from Dick Latimer and Inspector Moon 
relative to the Rotherhithe murder, and laid great 
stress on the fact that Jotty the street-arab had 
seen the peacock of jewels. Marie listened with 
open mouth. 

“But you can’t be sure that the poor man was 
murdered because of the peacock,” she said when he 
ended. “Besides, how could he have it?” 

“Oh, that last is easy. Grison was your uncle’s 
secretary and may have taken the peacock out of 
revenge, knowing that Mr. Sorley was fond of 
jewels. On the other hand, Grison may have read 
the very same manuscript about which you have been 
telling me and might have tried to learn the secret.” 

“Then he could not have,” cried the girl positively, 
“else he would not have remained in that horrid 
slum. Who has the peacock now ?” 

“The assassin.” 

“Who is he?” 

“No one knows, and no one can find out.” 

“But are you sure Mr. Grison was murdered be- 
cause of the peacock?” asked Marie again, and 
doubtfully. 

“I think so, since the room was ransacked, and 
Grison had no other object of value in his miserable 
dwelling to tempt anyone to commit a crime.” 

“Well, it might be so. But why am I not to tell 
Uncle Ran?” 

“Because I wish to find the peacock and deliver 
the assassin of Grison to justice. If Mr. Sorley goes 
on the trail also he will get the peacock and will not 
give it to you, to whom it rightfully belongs.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 




see. Of course I shall say nothing. And 
Alan” — she laid her arms round her lover’s neck — 
‘^do find the peacock, and let us look for ‘the 
treasure.” 

'‘And then?” questioned the young man, smiling 
at the bright face. 

“Then ! then,” said Miss Inderwick, dancing away 
from him, “why then, you stupid creature, we can 
marry and defy Uncle Ran.” 


CHAPTER IV 


AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR 

“Now that we have finished our secret conversa- 
tion/’ said Fuller some time later, when the pair 
were returning towards the avenue, “I shall call and 
pay my respects to your uncle.” 

“I don’t think he wants to see you,” answered 
Marie very candidly, “he is quite aware that I love 
you and wishes to keep us apart 

“No doubt, my dear, but I don’t intend him to 
get his own way. He never can, so long as you 
remain true to me.” 

Marie squeezed the arm she held. “As if there 
was any question of that. All the same. Uncle Ran 
is sure to be nasty if you call.” 

“He was amiable enough yesterday when we met, 
and outwardly he has no reason to overstep the 
bounds of politeness. I intend to call in order to 
show him that I am quite friendly, and if he objects 
he can speak out.” 

“He’s asleep yet, I expect,” objected Marie 
anxiously. 

“All the better. We shall have a longer time to 
ourselves, and you can give me a cup of tea.” 

“Uncle Ran would assuredly object to that,” said 
the girl with emphasis. “He is becoming a perfect 
miser. Every penny he obtains he turns into 
jewels, Alan, although owing to want of money he 
can only buy cheap stones.’* 

“So long as he uses his own money and not 
yours he can do what he likes, I suppose, Marie. But 
you have an income and the house, so he has no 
53 


54 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


right to object to your extending afternoon-tea hos- 
pitality to me.” 

“I never get any of my own money except a few 
shillings a week for my pocket,” admitted Marie 
rather mournfully. ^‘You know Uncle Ran was left 
my sole guardian, and I do not come of age for 
another year. Then he says he will account to me 
for my money, which he declares he is saving.” 

Remembering Mr. Sorley’s shifty eyes and slack 
mouth, Fuller had his doubts as to the truth of this 
statement, and merely grunted. But when Marie 
went on to say that her uncle was selling portions of 
the furniture he raised his eyebrows. ‘‘He has no 
right to do that without your consent, my dear.” 

''He says that he has, and that there is too much 
furniture in the place. I understand from him that 
he is selling the furniture in order to invest the 
money for me.” 

"Hum ! It may be so, but I should not be too sure 
of that. I wish I were your husband now, Marie, 
and then I could look after your interests.” 

"You don’t trust Uncle Ran?” 

"Candidly, I don’t, although I have no very strong 
reason to say so. Do you trust him yourself, 
Marie?” 

"I don’t know ; I can’t say,” said the girl slowly ; 
"of course he has been kind to me since I returned 
a year ago from Brighton, where I was at school, 
Alan. He doesn’t interfere with me, you know.” 

"He lets you run wild, if that’s what you mean, 
my dear,” retorted the solicitor hotly. "Now that it 
does you any harm of course, as you are a sensible 
girl. But Mr. Sorley should take you out visiting 
and let you go to dances occasionally, and you 
should have a few days in London every now and 
then. He should not neglect you as he does.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


■55 


“We are too poor to afford such things, Alan. 
But some day when we find the treasure, we — you 
and I of course — shall have a splendid time. Re- 
member the prophecy, my dear,” and she repeated 
two lines of the same; 


“Jewels and gold from over-seas 
Will bring them peace and joy and ease.” 


Alan was struck by the quotation from a three 
hundred year old oracle after hearing Marie’s story 
of the secret which possession and examination of 
the peacock would reveal. “Jewels and gold,” he 
repeated slowly, “yes; it does sound as though 
that line referred to the Begum’s hoard. Odd, very 
odd indeed.” 

“It will come true, it will come true,” sang Marie, 
dancing a step or two in her gleeful way, and with 
the exuberant joy of twenty. “Then we’ll pension 
Uncle Ran off, and have The Monastery and the 
money to ourselves. Oh, Alan, let us build castles 
in the air.” 

“They won’t turn into bricks and mortar until we 
find the peacock,” said Mr. Fuller gloomily, “and 
that will not be easy, seeing it means the capture of 
poor Orison’s assassin. Moon can find out nothing 
and if he fails how can mere amateur detectives such 
as Dick and I are succeed. However, we know that 
he Was murdered for the sake of the peacock, and 
this strange story of yours helps a bit to strengthen 
the clue. But let me impress upon you again, Marie, 
not to tell your uncle.” 

“Certainly not, though I really don’t know why 
you mistrust him.” 

“I scarcely know myself,” said Alan candidly, 
^'but I certainly do,” 


'S6 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


By this time — walking demurely apart in case Mr. 
Sorley should be awake and on the watch — they had 
entered the house, to find themselves in a large and 
chilly hall, with a black and white pavement and 
marble busts of the Caesars set round about it 
close to the walls. No rosy glow came from 
the old-fashioned fireplace, since Mr. Sorley deemed 
it waste of coal to heat such a mausoleum; so, 
with a shiver, the two crossed into the library, 
which was at the end of a lordly corridor to the 
right. 

‘There's a fire here," said Marie as they entered, 
“it's Uncle Ran's favorite room, and you can trust 
him to make himself comfortable, even if he has to 
pay for it." 

“Then he can't be a genuine miser," remarked 
Fuller, walking towards the fire, which was a toler- 
ably good one; “they starve themselves in every 
way, my dear, and — oh, I beg your pardon." 

This last was addressed to a small elderly woman 
who suddenly rose from a deep grandfather’s chair 
which looked like a sentry-box. She had sandy hair 
smoothly plastered down on either side of a sallow, 
wrinkled face ; also thin, firmly compressed lips and 
hard blue eyes, staring and unwinking. Her figure 
was lean, her waist was pinched in, and her shoul- 
ders were so sloping that the worn black velvet cloak 
she wore would have slipped off had it not been 
firmly fastened down the front with large buttons 
of cut jet. As the cloak was down to her very 
heels, the dress she had on could not be seen, but 
her head was adorned with an early Victorian bon- 
net and her thin hands were covered with drab 
thread gloves. She had crape on her bonnet, and 
crape round her neck, but it did not need this evi- 
dence of mourning to assure Fuller that he beheld 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


■57 


the sister of the dead man, since he remembered 
Dick’s description fairly well. 

^‘Miss Grison,” said Marie, coming forward when 
' she heard her lover’s speech and offering her hand, 
heard you were down here,” 

Miss Grison took the hand, gave it a limp shake 
and dropped it. ^Thank you, my dear,” she said in 
a cold, precise voice. ‘'I came down for my broth- 
er’s funeral. He always wished to rest in Belstone 
churchyard and have the service read over his 
remains by Mr. Fuller, so I felt it was only due to 
his memory to do what he desired.” 

‘This is Mr. Fuller’s son,” said Marie, intro- 
ducing Alan. 

“How do you do,” said the visitor, still coldly. 
“I remember you years ago as a little boy with bare 
legs and a pinafore. You have grown since then.” 

“It is impossible to have bare legs and a pinafore 
at twenty-seven,” said Alan, not knowing if she 
was laughing at him. 

“Twenty and more years ago I saw you,” said 
Miss Grison, who certainly seemed to have no sense 
of humor. “Ah, how the time passes. You were 
just born when I left Belstone to live in London,” 
she added, glancing in her hard way at Marie, “a 
mere infant in arms.” 

“I have seen you a few times though,” murmured 
Marie politely. 

Miss Grison nodded stiffly. “Occasionally I have 
come down to stay with Selina Millington,” she 
explained, “and we met before you went to school 
at Brighton. But since your return a year ago 
we have not met, as I have not been down here. 
How did you recognise me?” 

“You are not changed in any way,” said Marie 
bluntly. 


58 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


^‘1 should be,” remarked the little woman with a 
sigh, ‘'my poor Baldwin’s death has broken my 
heart.” 

“It was very terrible,” Marie hastened to assure 
her. “I read about it in the newspapers. Who 
killed him?” 

“That’s what I intend to find out,” cried Miss 
Grison with a flash of her blue eyes. “Poor Bald- 
win never harmed a soul, and had no enemies — 
except one,” she ended with an afterthought, and 
her lips closed firmly. 

“Perhaps the one enemy killed him.” 

“I don’t know. I can’t prove anything. And 
the police seem to be doubtful about tracing the 
man.” 

“It was a man then who murdered your brother?” 
asked Alan suddenly. 

Miss Grison gave him a scrutinizing look. “Yes, 
it was a man, as I truly believe, although there is no 
evidence to show the sex of the murderer.” 

“What is the name of the person you think was 
your brother’s enemy?” 

“Never mind, Mr. Fuller. I may misjudge him, 
and until I am sure I shall mention no names. But 
I shall watch and search and think and work until 
I avenge poor Baldwin’s death!” And the fierce, 
determined look on her yellow face showed that 
she thoroughly meant what she said. 

“Can I help you in any way ?” 

“Why should you?” she asked cautiously. 

“Because I take an interest in the case,” Alan 
explained equally cautiously. “A friend of mine, 
Mr. Latimer, who was at the inquest, told me all 
about the sad circumstances, and the death is so 
mysterious that both of us wish to learn the truth, 
if only out of curiosity.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


59 


The little woman paused almost imperceptibly 
and cast a swift look at the young man and the girl 
by his side before replying. Then she accepted the 
well-meant offer in her usual unemotional way. 'T 
shall be glad of your assistance, Mr. Fuller/’ she 
said, producing a printed card from a bead bag 
which dangled from her lean wrist; ‘^this is my 
address in Bloomsbury. I keep a boarding-house.” 

“So Mr. Latimer told me. You stated as much at 
the inquest. Tell me,” he asked, putting the card 
into his vest pocket, “have you any clue to ” 

“I have no clue you would call reasonable, Mr. 
Fuller!” 

“That hints some ground on your part for ” 

“Never mind what it hints,” interrupted Miss 
Grison sharply. “If you call on me in London, and 
I feel that I can trust you, then I may speak out.” 

“Anyone could trust Alan,” said Marie indig- 
nantly. 

The visitor gave a thin-lipped smile. “You are 
quite right to defend him, my dear, and your de- 
fence is natural enough since Selina Millington told 
me that Mr. Fuller admires you. But he’s a man 
and all men are bad ” 

“Except Alan, who is engaged to be married to 
me.” 

“All men are bad,” repeated Miss Grison stolidly. 
“I only knew one good man, and he was my brother 
Baldwin. 

“H’m I” murmured Alan, remembering what Sor- 
ley had said on the previous day. 

If Miss Grison heard the ejaculation, and under- 
stood its purport, she gave no sign of such knowl- 
edge. “What does your LFncle Randolph say to 
your being engaged to Mr. Fuller?” she asked turn- 
ing to Marie abruptly. 


6o 


THE PEACOCK OP JEWELS 


says nothing-, because he knows nothing.” 

“Then don't let him know. He will ruin your 
happiness in life if he can, as he ruined mine. A 
hard, cruel man is your Uncle Randolph, my dear.” 

Marie stared at this wholesale condemnation. 
“Do you know him well?” 

“Do I know him well ?” Miss Orison gave a hard 
laugh, and her eyes glittered viciously. “Yes, I 
may say that I know him very well.” 

Alan, looking closely at her, wondered if the 
enemy of her brother to whom she had referred so 
positively was Mr. Sorley, and thought that it was 
extremely likely from the vicious emphasis with 
which she spoke. But Miss Orison, giving him no 
time to make any comment on her last speech, con- 
tinued as though she had not stopped to draw 
breath. 

“I know the house very well also,” she said 
calmly, “and I have been walking all over it, while 
waiting to see Mr. Sorley.” 

“Walking all over it,” repeated Marie rather 
indignantly. “A stranger?” 

“I am not a stranger either to Mr. Sorley or to 
The Monastery,” replied the small woman with 
great coolness. “When my brother was his secre- 
tary here, years ago, I used to spend days wander- 
ing about the rooms and corridors. I know every 
nook and corner of it, my dear, and could tell you 
of many a secret hiding-place and hidden passage 
which were used in ancient times. Your mother 
made a friend of me in those days, and we used to 
explore the house together before you were 
born.” 

“Still Uncle Ran would not like you walking 
about the place when I was out and he was asleep. 
Didn't Jenny or Henny stop you?” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


6i 


‘‘Do you mean the servants?” inquired Miss 
Grison smoothly. “Well they did express surprise 
when I walked into the kitchen. But I told them 
I had come to see Mr. Sorley, and they showed me 
in here to wait for him — as if I required showing,” 
ended Miss Grison disdainfully. 

Fuller stared at her hard. She seemed to be in 
her right senses and what she said was reasonable 
enough, but it struck him that there must be some- 
thing eccentric about her when she ventured to 
enter a house and explore it without the owneFs 
permission. Again Miss Grison gave him no time 
to make a comment, but went on talking in the 
shrill voice which Latimer had noted and men- 
tioned. 

“Henrietta and Jane Trent are twins,” she ex- 
plained to Marie as if the girl knew nothing about 
her own servants. “I remember them as little tod- 
dlers in the village. The mother took in washing. 
Fine bouncing women they have grown into, my 
dear : red cheeks and black hair and wooden expres- 
sions, just like two Dutch dolls. Are they good 
servants ?” 

Marie was so taken aback by the audacity of her 
visitor that she replied, as she would have done to 
her schoolmistress: “They are very good and do 
all the work of this big house.” 

“There is a lot to do, I admit,” said Miss Grison, 
nodding, “but I notice that many of the rooms are 
shut up, my dear.” 

“We — uncle and I, that is — do not require so 
many.” 

“I looked into some, and found them bare of 
furniture,” pursued Miss Grison calmly, and with 
her hard, unwinking stare. “Yet in my time there 
was a lot of valuable ” 


62 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘Tardon me, Miss Grison,’’ interrupted Fuller, 
seeing the consternation of Marie, ‘‘but don’t you 
think you are taking rather a liberty in entering the 
house and in talking like this ?” 

“It may appear a liberty to you, Mr. Fuller,” she 
rejoined quietly, “but it will not to Mr. Sorley. 
We are old friends.” 

“Friends,” said Alan with emphasis. 

She turned on him with a flash in her eyes. “Did 
he ever give you to understand otherwise?” she 
demanded, drawing quick breaths. “Has he ever 
mentioned my name to you ?” 

She waited for a reply but none came, as Alan 
was deliberating whether it would be wise to inform 
her of the way in which Mr. Sorley had spoken. 
Also he wondered if Miss Grison knew that her 
brother had been murdered for the sake of the pea- 
cock, and if she could tell how Baldwin became 
possessed of the same. But he felt that it would 
be best not to ask questions, or to make answers, 
until he knew his ground better. With her hard 
look, the little woman waited for him to speak, but 
he was saved the trouble by the unexpected entrance 
of Mr. Randolph Sorley. He was perfectly dressed 
as usual in a well-cut suit of blue serge and wore 
patent leather boots, together with a smart scarf 
of white silk fastened with a black pearl ’breast-pin. 
If he was a miser in some things, as Marie asserted, 
he assuredly was not so in the matter of clothes, 
for no one could have been better turned out, or 
have looked more aristocratic. His carriage was so 
upright, his hair so short, his face so bronzed and 
his greenish eyes so alert that he had quite a mili- 
tary appearance. He even looked young in the 
dusky atmosphere of the big room, and it was only 
when he came forward more into the light that 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 63 


he betrayed his sixty years. And that was possibly 
because Alan knew his true age, for the smooth, 
clean-shaven face looked much younger in spite of 
the white hair. 

‘‘Mr. Fuller! Miss Grison,” he said slowly, “this 
is indeed a surprise. I am delighted to see you 
both.’’ 

And indeed he appeared to be so, for his smile 
was open, his speech soft and his manner frank. 
After what he had said about the woman on the 
previous day Fuller quite expected that he would 
be rude to her and — since he had other plans in his 
head — the young man quite expected that he would 
be rude to him also. But Mr. Sorley was apparently 
too well-bred to act impolitely in what he regarded 
as his own house, even if that same house was the 
property of Marie Inderwick. Miss Orison’s blue 
eyes glittered a trifle more as he shook hands with 
her cordially but otherwise she remained her im- 
penetrable self. And remembering what she had 
said about her host, Alan was as amazed at her 
behavior as he was at Sorley’s. As to Marie, she 
was so relieved that her uncle received Alan cour- 
teously that she never gave a thought to the possi- 
bility that he might be acting a part for reasons 
best known to himself. 

“Have you had tea?” inquired Mr. Sorley, pok- 
ing the fire. “Marie, my dear, why did you not 
offer your guests tea?” And he rang the bell 
promptly. 

“I did not like to without your permission. Uncle 
Ran,” she said timidly. 

“My dear child, this is your house, and here 
you are the mistress. I am only your guardian and 
live here, as it were, on sufferance. Miss Grison 
I am truly grieved to hear of your brother’s death.” 


64 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘‘Oh, indeed,’’ said the small woman sarcastically, 
“in that case, I wonder you didn’t come to the 
funeral.” 

“No! no! no! That would have awakened mem- 
ories of the past.” 

“There is a proverb,” remarked Miss Orison 
coldly, “which bids us let sleeping dogs lie.” 

“Very good advice,” assented Mr. Sorley, “sup- 
pose we adopt it by letting the sad past alone and 
coming to the sad present. Have the police dis- 
covered who murdered your brother?” 

“No,” snapped Miss Orison impassively. 

“Are they likely to?” 

“If I can help them, they certainly are.” 

“Then you know of some clue?” 

“I may, or I may not. This is not the time to 
speak about such things.” 

“My dear lady,” said the host with great dignity, 
“I am under the impression that you came here to 
receive my sympathy.” 

“Then you were never more mistaken in your 
life,” retorted Miss Orison grimly. “I came to say 
what I shall say, when tea is at an end.” 

“Nothing unpleasant, I trust?” asked Sorley dis- 
tinctly uneasily. 

“That is for you to judge,” she returned, and the 
entrance of Henny Trent with a tray put an end to 
this particular conversation. 

While Henny, who was large and red-cheeked 
and black-eyed, and who really resembled the Dutch 
doll Miss Orison had compared her to, was arrang- 
ing the tea-table, Alan stole furtive looks at Mr. 
Sorley. The old gentleman seemed to have sud- 
denly aged, and a haggard look had crept over his 
deceptive face, while his eyes hinted uneasiness as 
he watched Miss Orison. It seemed to Fuller that 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 65 


Sorley for some reason feared his visitor, and the 
fact that she had so audaciously walked over the 
house appeared to indicate that she was quite sure 
he would not rebuke her for the liberty. And, 
remembering the man’s bluster, which contrasted 
so pointedly with his present suave talk, Alan felt 
confident that there was an understanding between 
them. He asked himself if such had to do with the 
murder, but replied mentally in the negative. If 
Sorley knew anything about the matter. Miss Gri- 
son would then and there have denounced him, since 
she appeared to hate him as much as he dreaded 
her. But beyond short answers and sinister glances, 
she gave no sign of her enmity, while Sorley 
masked his uneasiness under the guise of small talk. 
In spite of the almost immediate occurrence of the 
murder, and the fact that Miss Grison had come 
down for the funeral. Fuller noted that the tragedy 
was scarcely referred to — at all events during the 
earlier part of the conversation. Along with Marie, 
he remained silent, and allowed the other two to 
converse. 

“Are you staying long down here. Miss Grison ?” 
asked the host, handing a cup of tea to her and a 
plate of thin bread and butter. 

“Why don’t you call me Louisa as you used to 
do?” she demanded. “We were great friends, you 
know, Marie, before you were born.” She turned 
to Miss Inderwick. 

“Yes! yes,” said Sorley, taking his cue. “You 
called me Randolph; but we are both too old now 
to use our Christian names.” He laughed arti- 
ficially. 

“Are we?” said Miss Grison shortly. “Perhaps 
we are. How are you getting along with that book 
on precious stones, may I ask?” 


66 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


'‘You may,” said Sorley blandly. "I am getting 
on slowly but surely. It has taken me years to 
gather material.” 

"Precious stones, I suppose.” 

"Certain gems of small value amongst other 
material, such as legends and superstitions con- 
nected with jewels. It will be an interesting 
book.” 

"I’m sure it will,” said Miss Grison more gra- 
ciously, "but don’t work too hard at it. You are 
fond of exercise?” 

"Yes, I take a great deal.” 

"Ah, Selina Millington told me that you had 
bought a motor bicycle.” 

"Yes,” said Sorley stiffly and still laboriously 
polite. "I ride it round the country.” 

"And up to London?” 

"No,” he replied swiftly. "I have not yet trav- 
elled on it to town.” 

"I don’t think it takes many hours to get to town 
on so rapid a machine,” said Miss Grison in a mu- 
sing tone. "But perhaps you are wise; you might 
get knocked over in the streets.” 

What answer Sorley made to this speech Alan 
did not hear. Marie, who had resented his atten- 
tion to the speech of the elderly couple, now insisted 
that he should converse with her. He did so rather 
unwillingly, in spite of his genuine love. But his 
brain was running on the odd and somewhat spas- 
modic conversation, and he wondered why Miss 
Grison so pointedly referred to the motor bicycle. 
Also it seemed strange that Sorley should be on 
such familiar terms with a humble woman who 
kept a Bloomsbury boarding-house. To be sure her 
brother had been the man’s secretary, and Sorley 
probably had been intimate with the visitor in early 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 67 


days. Perhaps — and here Fuller started — perhaps 
the two had been in love, and the hatred Miss Ori- 
son felt for the well-preserved old gentleman was 
that of a woman scorned. When he again caught 
the drift of the conversation she was talking 
about cryptograms, and this also Alan thought 
strange. 

‘'My poor brother was always trying to work out 
secret writings,” said she. 

“Why ?” asked Sorley, again uneasy at this men- 
tion of the dead. 

“I don’t know,” answered Miss Orison indiffer- 
ently. “He wanted to learn some secret that would 
bring him money.” 

“In connection with what?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Did he ever decipher the secret writing you 
refer to?” 

“I don’t know,” said Miss Orison again. “He 
spent his days and nights in trying to work out the 
cryptogram.” 

“Alan,” murmured Marie under her breath on 
hearing this, “there is some cryptogram connected 
with the peacock, I fancy.” 

“Yes! yes, and he had it,” said Fuller hastily. 
Then he raised his voice. “Are you talking about 
ciphers. Miss Orison? I am fond of solving them 
myself and indeed I am rather good at it.” 

“Are you ?” It was Mr. Sorley who replied and 
not the woman. “I think that I could puzzle you.” 

“No, you couldn’t,” rejoined Alan deliberately 
boastful. “Set me any cryptogram and I am sure 
I can solve it. I go on the system of Poe.” 

“What is that?” 

Before he could answer Miss Grison rose, and 
shaking the crumbs from her dress walked to the 


68 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


door. There she halted, and turned to fix cold eyes 
on her astonished host, who had not expected so 
abrupt a move in the midst of an agreeable con- 
versation. 

‘T have eaten and drunk in this house,’' said Miss 
Grison sternly, ‘‘a thing I never believed that I 
could bring myself to do. Now I shall say what 
I came to say to you, Mr. Randolph Sorley, and 
shake the dust from my feet.” 

“Hadn’t you better speak to me privately ?” asked 
Sorley, rising with a wan smile and a white face. 

“I think not. What I have to say can be heard 
by both these young people, who are aware of the 
opinion I have of you. You are a wicked and cruel 
and sinful man, worse than the worst of men, 
although all are bad now that my poor brother is 
dead.” 

“Your brother Bald ” 

“Don’t dare to take his name on your lips,” inter- 
rupted Miss Grison in a fierce way. “His death is 
due to you.” 

“To me? How dare you accuse me of the mur- 
der?” Sorley was whiter than ever and seemed 
much shaken by the abrupt accusation. 

“I don’t. But I accuse you of having wrongfully 
dismissed Baldwin from this house, over twenty 
years ago.” 

“I dismissed him, if you will have the truth told 
in the presence of others, because he forged my 
name to a check.” 

“He did not. You malign the dead. You turned 
him out and soiled his name and ruined his life 
without a shadow of excuse. That he sank to a 
slum in Rotherhithe is your work; that he was 
murdered there is your work, for if he had not been 
in Rotherhithe he would not have died by violence. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 6g 


If you had dared to come to the funeral I should 
have spat on your wicked face.’’ 

‘‘How dare you ! how dare you ! Marie, go to your 
room.” 

“Marie shall stay until she hears what I think of 
you,” cried Miss Grison grimly. “With that meal 
you hoped to smooth me down. But I shall never 
forgive you for having laid Baldwin in the dust. 
You have had your turn : now it is my turn. Wait, 
wait and see how iniquity can be punished,” and, 
shaking a menacing finger, she stalked out of the 
room. 

“Mad ! mad. She is mad,” gasped Mr. Sorley and 
literally tottered out of the library, presumably to 
follow his denouncer. 

“What does it all mean, Alan ?” asked Marie with 
awe. “Why did she turn so suddenly on Uncle 
Ran?” 

“And why did she mention that her brother was 
trying to solve some secret writing which he hoped 
would bring him money?” asked Fuller quickly. 

“Her brother had the peacock and ” 

“Exactly. Now Marie we have a clue to the 
truth.” 


CHAPTER V 


THE LETTER 

.What Fuller meant exactly when he suggested to 
Marie that there was now a clue to the truth may 
be gathered from one of the frequent conversations 
he held on the subject with his friend. Fuller had 
much to say when he returned to town from his 
week-end visit to Belstone, but for some little time 
he did not find a favorable moment for an ex- 
haustive talk. He certainly gave Dick a few hints 
as to what he had learned, and spoke more or less 
in a desultory manner, but Latimer’s time was so 
fully taken up with journalism that the matter was 
not discussed thoroughly until the middle of the 
week. And even then the chance came about in 
a somewhat unexpected way, as Alan took the 
opportunity to detain the reporter when he strolled 
into the Chancery Lane office for a few minutes. 
Dick had stated that he was off the chain for a time, 
and simply wished for a smoke and a rest. 

‘‘You can fire away with your work, old son,” said 
Latimer, taking possession of the client’s chair. “I 
sha’n’t bother you.” 

“This affair of the peacock bothers me a deal 
more than you do,” retorted the solicitor, “ and I am 
glad to get you to myself for a few minutes to talk 
it over. Hitherto you have always rushed off when 
I wanted you.” 

“Humanity demands my services, Alan,” said 
Dick ironically, “and I have to earn a ridiculously 
small income by attending to the squalling of brother 
70 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


71 


man. However, I am at your disposal for one entire 
hour, so you can burble to your heart’s content.” 

“There is much more than burbling in this mat- 
ter,” rejoined the other man gravely. “You don’t 
take so much interest in this matter as I expected 
you to, Dick, considering our first conversation on 
the matter.” 

Latimer, with a lighted match held over the filled 
bowl of his pipe, looked up quickly. “Oh, but I do, 
my son. I am very interested indeed, and if you 
have things to tell me, as I gather from what you 
have let drop since you came back from the country, 
I have information also.” 

“What about?” 

“First your story and then mine,” said Dick im- 
perturbably. “All things in order, old boy. I 
suppose none of your confounded clients will come 
in to interrupt.” 

“I don’t think so. Things are slack just now, and 
I am rather glad that they are, as I shall have time 
to attend to the Rotherhithe matter.” 

Dick grunted and shook himself, looking like a 
huge good-natured bear in the fur overcoat which 
the bitter cold of the December day demanded. “I 
don’t see the use of your bothering about the busi- 
ness unless you are legally retained to thresh it out. 
Why waste your time?” 

“Far from wasting my time,” said Alan quietly, 
“the solution of this mystery means that Miss 
Inderwick may acquire a large fortune.” 

“And you, by marrying Miss Inderwick, will gain 
possession of the same along with a tolerably pretty 
young woman,” said Latimer dryly. 

Fuller’s dark eyes flashed. “She’s the loveliest 
girl in the world,” he cried vehemently, “and you 
know it.” 


72 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


“I ought to, since you have told me as much as 
fifty times. But I say, your hint of a large fortune * 
sounds interesting. How much?” 

*‘One hundred to two hundred thousand pounds.” 

Dick whistled. ‘‘The deuce. We are playing with 
crowns and kingdoms it seems, old son. Fire away* 
I’m all attention, in the hope that some of the cash 
may come into my pockets.” 

Alan took no notice of this flippant remark, but 
went into the outer office to tell his clerk that he 
would be engaged for one hour. As a solicitor with 
a small but certain practice Fuller only enjoyed the 
ownership of two dingy rooms very badly lighted 
and still more badly furnished. His inner sanctum 
Only contained a large writing-table, a gfeen-painted 
iron safe, a shabby bookcase filled with law volumes 
bound in calf, and a few cane-bottomed chairs. A 
window with a slanting silvered glass outside to 
attract the light and reflect it into the dark room, 
was opposite the door, and beside it was a small 
grate in which at the present moment burned an 
equally small fire. Alan returned and seated him- 
self beside this, taking out his pipe to enjoy the 
hour during which “he sported his oak,” as the 
phrase goes. Dick grunted and sucked at his briar 
in an opposite chair, waiting for Fuller to open the 
conversation. 

“I told you that Miss Inderwick had given me 
a clue,” began Alan, but was cut short by his friend. 

“Why not ‘Marie’ to me, my haughty solicitor?” 

“By all means,” said Fuller readily, “since I keep 
nothing from you. But I have fallen so much into 
the habit of speaking stiffly about Marie to out- 
siders, so as to prevent old Sorley from interfering, 
that 1 forget how implicitly I can trust you.” 

“I sha’n’t say a word about your wooing to the 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


73 


man, if that’s what yon mean,” growled Dick, '‘but 
if you talk of ‘Miss Inderwick’ I shall expect you 
to call me ‘Mr. Latimer.’ ” 

“Oh, hang your nonsense. Let us get to business.” 

“How can we when you talk all round the shop ?” 
protested Dick, raising his eyebrows. “Well, go on. 
You hinted to me that you spoke to Marie about the 
peacock.” 

“I did, but not to Mr. Sorley.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I don’t trust him.” 

“Why not?” inquired Latimer once more and 
very stolidly. 

“Now you ask me a question which is not easy to 
answer,” said Alan, looking meditatively into the 
fire. “I can give no reason for my mistrust since, 
so far as I know, Sorley is straight enough on the 
whole.” 

“Well then, if he is straight, why mistrust him?” 

“I said on the whole he is straight; but he does 
certain things of which I do not approve,” 

“Such as stopping your wooing,” chuckled the 
journalist. “Ho! Ho!” 

“I rather refer to his selling certain valuable 
furniture which belongs to Marie, and which I am 
pretty sure he has no right to dispose of.” 

“It sounds crooked. But after all he is her 
guardian, and you don’t know what power the will 
of her father gives him.” 

“I mean to find that out by an examination of the 
will at Somerset House, Dicky. Sorley enjoys 
Marie’s income and his own and has the benefit of 
living at The Monastery rent free. He is, as you 
know, crazy about jewels, and from what Marie tells 
me he uses all the cash to buy them. She only has 
her clothes and a few shillings a week for pocket 


74 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


money. But he never allows her to go into county 
society, nor does he take her to town.’' 

Latimer removed his pipe and nodded. ‘‘He wants 
her to remain as a flower unseen until she is of age. 
Then he will hand over the accumulated money in 
the form of jewels, and will present her to an 
astonished world when she come of age in a year 
and his guardianship ceases.” 

“Hum!” said Alan dubiously, “so you say. But 
my impressions are quite diflferent. It is my opinion 
that this precious guardian will not be able to render 
an honest account of his stewardship, but, when 
required to do so, will bolt with the jewels upon 
which he has squandered Marie’s money and with 
the fortune of the peacock if he can find the 
same.” 

“Is there any difficulty in finding it, Alan?” 

“Yes. In the first place the fortune is hidden and 
only by gaining possession of the peacock can the 
clue be found to its whereabouts. And in the second 
place, even if that bird ” 

“The ooff-bird,” suggested Latimer vulgarly. 

“If you like. But even if it is found there will be 
a difficulty in reading its riddle.” 

“Its riddle? Whatever do you mean?” 

“What I say,” retorted Fuller impatiently. “The 
secret of the fortune is connected with some secret 
writing which has to do with the peacock.” 

“But how can there be secret writing on a 
metal ornament ?” 

“I can’t say. I don’t know. There’s an enigma 
of some sort, a cryptogram.” 

“This is very interesting but patchy,” said Dick, 
readjusting his big body in the chair. “Suppose you 
tell me all from the beginning. Then I might get a 
glimmer of what you exactly mean.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


7i 


“Very good, then don’t interrupt.” And Alan 
related the strange story of George Inderwick and 
his faithful servant, who had preserved the secret so 
faithfully indeed that not even the master had been 
able to find the jewels. Latimer listened with great 
attention, and nodded when the story was con- 
cluded with an air of satisfaction. 

“It’s quite a romance,” he declared slowly, when 
Fuller waited for comment, “and there is no doubt 
that the assassin stole the peacock by murdering 
Grison in order to get the Begum’s gems. No man 
would have been such a fool as to risk his neck 
otherwise for a paltry ornament.” 

“I am not so sure of that, seeing how valuable 
the peacock is,” rejoined the other doubtfully. “It 
is — as I learned from my father, who saw this fetish 
of the Inderwicks — as large as a thrush; of pure 
gold elaborately worked, and is studded with 
precious stones of more or less price. The tail is 
spread out and is also jewelled. Now any of those 
Lascars or Dagoes in Mother Slaig’s boarding- 
house would not mind killing a man by cutting his 
throat to gain possession of such an object.” 

“Ah, but the man was not killed in that way. 
A seaman of whatever nationality would cut a 
throat, but would not use a slender instrument which 
scarcely drew any blood to get rid of Grison. The 
instrument used — which has not been discovered, by 
the way — suggests a refined criminal.” 

“A slender instrument,” repeated Fuller musingly, 
“why not a stiletto which an Italian would use ? And 
there are Italian seamen, you know.” 

Dick nodded. “There is something in that,” he 
admitted, “but we’ll let that point alone for the 
time being. Evidently the peacock is worth more 
than its intrinsic value to a man who can solve its 


76 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


mystery. Now the question is, how did Grison get 
hold of the ornament ?” 

‘‘I see no trouble in answering that, Dicky,” and 
again Alan told the story: this time that one which 
dealt with Orison’s dismissal from his post by Sorley 
on a charge of forgery, and with the visit of the 
sister to the big house. Then he related how Miss 
Grison had spoken to her host and also how she 
had talked about cryptograms. "‘Although,” con- 
cluded Alan, “since I was talking to Marie at the 
time, I don’t exactly know how she introduced that 
particular subject.” 

“That she introduced it at all, shows two things,” 
said Latimer decisively. “One, that she knew her 
brother stole the peacock; and two, she was aware 
how he was searching for the solution of the crypto- 
gram connected with the bird in order to secure the 
gems.” 

“But how could he have learned about the 
Begum’s treasure?” asked Fuller. 

“Undoubtedly in the same way as Marie did. 
Grison, as Sorley’s secretary, must have found the 
manuscript and ” 

“But if he found it, why did he not take it with 
him?” 

“I can’t explain that. He would have done better 
had he secured it so that no one else should learn the 
true value of the peacock. But it was to get the 
gems that he stole the ornament, and perhaps told 
the story in a moment of weakness to the third party 
who afterwards murdered him for its possession. 
That’s what I think. Have you any reason to 
believe that Sorley himself knows about the peacock 
cryptogram?” 

Fuller jumped up and, laying down his pipe, began 
to pace the narrow confines of the office. “Yes, I 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


77 


do, and for these reasons. In the first place, Miss 
Grison would not have mentioned cryptograms to 
him without she guessed that he knew something; 
in the second, when I boasted purposely about my 
knowledge of secret writings, he would not have told 
me that he had a cryptogram which would baffle my 
skill, as he certainly did more or less; and in the 
third, Dicky, he would not have been afraid of 
Miss Grison.’' 

“What do you mean by that exactly?” 

“Well, Sorley told me that he hated Miss Grison 
and that she annoyed him by saying that he had 
dismissed her brother unjustly and had practically 
ruined his life. She walked into the house and all 
over the house, and yet Sorley did not dare to object 
either to her taking such a liberty or to her calling 
him names when Marie and I were present. Also 
she asked about his motor cycle which I told you he 
had bought, and inquired if he had been to London. 
He denied that he had, and she sarcastically advised 
him not to go lest he should be knocked over in the 
streets.” 

“Then I infer,” said Dick, slowly removing his 
pipe, “that you believe Miss Grison suspects Sorley 
of knowing both the secret of the peacock and that 
it was in the possession of her brother. Also 
that he came up to town by means of his motor 
cycle and murdered the man for its possession?” 

“Yes, I do infer as much,” said Fuller bluntly and 
returning to his chair. “If Sorley has not the pea- 
cock, and does not know the story of Ferrier, 
why should he speak to me about cryptograms?” 

“But he only made an idle remark which was 
natural, seeing that Miss Grison spoke of crypto- 
grams, although I admit that it is strange she should 
talk about them at all unless ” 


78 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


''Exactly,” interrupted the solicitor, tilting back 
his chair so as to get at the drawer of his writing- 
table; "unless she believes that he murdered her 
brother and now possesses the peacock with an 
intention of learning the cryptogram by employing 
me to solve it.” 

"Sorley would scarcely do that when he knows 
that if he is guilty, such a revelation of his posses- 
sion of the peacock would condemn him.” 

"You forget,” said Alan, who had extracted a 
letter from the drawer, "that the fact of the murder 
being committed for the sake of the peacock has 
not yet been made public. As I said, I told Marie, 
but I did not tell Sorley because I mistrust him, 
and warned her not to do so either. So if Miss 
Orison’s assumption is true Sorley will have no 
hesitation in enlisting my services, or in showing me 
the peacock, always presuming that he is indeed the 
murderer and has it in his possession.” 

Latimer nodded three times solemnly. "It is 
strange, and you argue very well, my son. What’s 
that letter you are holding?” 

"It’s from Sorley and came yesterday morning. 
I have not had an opportunity of talking about it to 
you before, as you have been so confoundedly busy. 
•It is a letter,” said Fuller, unfolding the missive, 
"which illustrates the proverb that he who excuses 
himself accuses himself.” 

"Ho,” said Lathimer with a world of meaning, 
"read it out, my boy.” 

"There is no need to read it. I can give you the 
gist in a few words,” was Fuller’s reply, as Jie ran 
his eye rapidly over the lines. "Sorley begs me not 
to take notice of Miss Orison’s wild words, as she 
is a trifle mad. He had to dismiss her brother for 
forging his name to a check, but, as the man was 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


79 


also insane — slightly, that is — he did not prosecute 
him.” 

“Very kind and Christian-like, Alan, But why 
does Sorley put up with Miss Orison’s vagaries?” 

“He declares that he is sorry for her, in this 
letter.” 

“And by word of mouth as good as told you that 
he hated her. Humph! It seems to me that our 
dear friend is hedging. Well, and what more, 
Alan?” 

“Nothing more on the subject of Miss Orison, 
save that he declares his contempt for her 
threats.” 

“Threats. What threats?” Dick sat up alertly. 

“She told him in the presence of Marie, and in my 
presence also, that he was to wait and see how 
iniquity would be punished.” 

“Humph! That looks as though she means to 
be nasty.” 

“Exactly. And Sorley’s cringing to her implies 
that he guesses she can make things hot for him. 
However, he simply ends his letter by saying that 
when I come to Belstone for Christmas he will have 
a chat with me on the subject of cryptograms. Did 
I not say, Dick, that his letter illustrates the proverb 
I referred to. Why should Sorley think it necessary 
to explain about Miss Orison and her crazy words — • 
if indeed they are crazy — or why should he wish to 
talk about cryptograms to me, unless ” 

“Quite so,” interrupted Dick on the same word 
and in the same manner as his friend had stopped 
him previously. “Unless she believes that Sorley 
made away with her brother. It’s a strange case, 
and grows more complicated as we go into it.” 

“What is your opinion, Dick?” 

“It is rather difficult to give a hard and fast one 


8o 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


on what facts we have before us, seeing that we are 
so much in the dark. By the way, how long has 
Sorley had the motor bicycle ?” 

“He told me, or rather hinted at three weeks, 
but Marie said that he bought it four months ago.'' 

“Humph! So Sorley tells a lie about that, does 
he? It looks fishy. Certainly on a good machine 
he could slip up to town and back again in a night 
without anyone being the wiser." 

“Then you think that he committed the murder, 
by ?" Alan spoke excitedly. 

“I can’t say that,” interrupted Latimer swiftly. 

“ Oh! You infer then that he is innocent?" 

“I can’t say that either." 

“Then what the deuce do you say?" demanded the 
lawyer irritably. 

“This much. That before we can be sure of 
Sorley being mixed up with the crime, we must learn 
for certain if he possesses the peacock of jewels.” 

“But how can we?" 

can’t, but you can, Alan. Sorley's request 
that you should talk cryptograms with him at 
Christmas can only arise from his desire to solve the 
riddle of the peacock. Wait and hear what he has 
to say.” 

“And then ?’’ asked Fuller, nodding approval. 

“Then we shall be able to take another step 
along this dark path. You mean to travel it, I 
presume?" asked Dick, looking up searchingly. 

“Of course I do," replied the young man em- 
phatically. “If those jewels are in existence they 
belong to Marie, and I want to find them before 
Sorley does, lest he should make off with them." 

“Well," said Latimer grimly, “I daresay he 
would bolt, both because he loves jewels and more- 
over — if giailty — must dread risking his neck." 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


8i 


‘‘Guilty? If he possesses the peacock he must 
be guilty.” 

“It would -appear so, Alan, since only by means 
of the peacock can the gems be discovered. If he 
finds them we can assume very reasonably that he 
killed Baldwin Grison, but as yet so far as we know 
the jewels are still hidden.” Dick thought for a 
few moments, then ventured on advice. ^‘You have 
a week or so before taking your Christmas holiday. 
Why not visit Miss Grison at her boarding-house? 
You know where it is.” 

“Yes. She gave me her card. But she wonh 
speak out, Dicky. Had she been certain of Sorley’s 
criminality she would have denounced him then 
and there to gratify her hatred.” 

“She may only have a suspicion of his guilt, or 
perhaps her wish is father to her thought. But it 
seems to me that by her allusion to the bicycle, and 
to cryptograms, she wished to arouse your mistrust 
of the man.” 

“Still she cannot be aware that Made told me 
about the peacock riddle?” 

Latimer ruffied his hair in perple?city. ‘^Oh, hang 
it, what is the use of speculating!” he cried crossly, 
and rising to stretch his big limbs. ‘^Before we can 
arrive at any conclusion we must sound Miss Grison 
as to what she knows, or what she does not know.” 

“At all events she detests Sorley and, so far as I 
can see, will do her best to hang him.” 

‘Terhaps. But it is your task to prevent such 
a miscarriage. Go and see her, Alan, and then tell 
me what you learn.” 

“Very good. I shall write a note and invite 
myself to dinner.” 

^‘Why to dinner?” 

‘‘I wish to see what kind of lodgers Miss Grison 


a 


82 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


has, and to hear their opinion of their landlady. 
Much can be learned in this way. But tell me, Dick, 
what you have discovered.” 

'‘Very little. Moon is still hunting for the assas- 
sin and is still at his wit’s end how to strike the 
true trail. The only thing of interest that I have 
learned is about Jotty.” 

"The street-arab whom Grison befriended?” 

"Yes. He’s a clever little animal, and in better 
surroundings might improve into something useful. 
Miss Grison intends to give him his chance, and is 
taking him into her service as a page-boy. She’ll 
have enough to do to teach him civilized habits,” 
concluded Dick cynically. 

"Why is she acting so philanthropically ?” 

"Out of regard for the memory of her brother, 
as she told Inspector Moon.” 

"Well,” murmured Fuller thoughtfully, "that is 
reasonable enough since she appears to have had 
a strong regard for her brother. Perhaps he com- 
mended Jotty to her care.” 

"It’s not improbable. The poor wretch may have 
wished to give the boy a chance, and if so, it shows 
that there were decent feelings in him. But if you 
visit this boarding-house I wish you to keep an 
eye on Jotty.” 

"Why ?” Alan looked up quickly. 

"Because I believe the boy knows much more than 
he has hitherto admitted.” 

"Oh,” said Fuller, after a pause, "so it is probable 
that Miss Grison’s interest in the lad is not wholly 
philanthropic. You fancy that she may desire to 
keep him under her own eye lest he should say too 
much.” 

Latimer shrugged his shoulders. "I can’t say 
that I quite took that view, Alan, as Miss Grison 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 83 


may really be acting kindly out of regard for her 
brother’s wishes. All the same I believe that Jotty 
knows things about the murder which he is keep- 
ing quiet, and it will be just as well to watch him 
more or less closely.” 

‘^But on what grounds ?” 

‘^On no grounds whatever. It’s just an idea I 
have, and may be all rubbish.” 

Fuller nodded. ‘‘On the .other hand it may be 
useful not to reject your idea, Dick. I shall watch 
and question Jotty if I get the chance.” 

“Be careful, Alan. He is a sharp lad.” 

“I’ll see that he does not get the better of me. 
Dick, isn’t it strange how suspicious one gets of 
everything when on a man-hunt ?” 

“Yes. But it’s natural enough. On a trail one 
always observes small signs to indicate the direction, 
and so everything around becomes of value in the 
way of evidence. However, you know what you 
have to do ?” 

“Yes. And you?” 

“I shall keep in touch with Rotherhithe and 
Mother Slaig’s boarding-house and Moon. What- 
ever I learn you shall know. Good luck, Alan, to 
your hunting.” 

“Ditto to yours, Dicky, and now clear out and let 
me get to work.” 

Latimer tramped to the door and vanished with a 
friendly growl. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE BOARDING-HOUSE 

The establishment of MisS Louisa Orison was by 
no means aristocratic as her house was not situated 
in a fashionable quarter of London and she charged 
extremely moderate prices for board and lodging. 
Petty clerks and shopgirls formed the greater por- 
tion of those who dwelt under her humble roof, 
but occasionally people in better circumstances came 
to the place. Young men learning to become law- 
yers, Students in various metropolitan colleges, ac- 
tresses in or out of employment, reduced ladies, who 
had just Sufficient income to keep body and soul 
together, literary aspirants and adventurers down 
in their luck, were to be found at 2z Thimble Square, 
Bloomsbury. It was a fluctuating population which 
came and went thoughout the year. Sometimes the 
house would be full, at other times it was almost 
empty but in one way and another Miss Grison 
always contrived to satisfy her landlord and pay 
her taxes. She never complained of her lot, or 
lamented her poverty, but met everything, good, 
bad and indifferent, in her hard way, without emo- 
tion of any kind. Misery seemed to have turned 
her into stone. 

The house was a large corner one, with a vast 
drawing-room, a vast dining-room, and a sitting- 
room for Miss Grison on the ground floor, together 
with a kitchen of no great size and servants’ cubicles 
in the basement. All the rest of the building was 
given over to bedrooms, so small and so many that 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 85 


they resembled the cells of bees. And the lodgers 
were exactly like bees, for the greater part of them 
swarmed out to their various employments in the 
early morning and swarmed back again late in the 
evening. Sometimes they had spare money for 
amusements, but more often they had not, and 
seemed to be incessantly working like the bees afore- 
said to gather honey for other people. Yet as they 
were generally young and hopeful and health/, on 
the whole they contrived to enjoy themselves in a 
meagre way, their standard of pleasure not being 
very high. Sometimes the men made love to the 
women, or the girls flirted with the boys, and so 
long as these philanderings were innocent Miss 
Grison did not forbid them. But in her hard way, 
she was rigorously moral, and any boarder, male 
or female, who overstepped the line was banished 
from this penny Eden. However, the inmates of 
the Establishment— as Miss Grison called it— be- 
haved very well and she rarely had cause for com- 
plaint. They were all a trifle afraid of the landlady 
with her hard blue eyes and stiff manners, and she 
ruled them after the manner of a schoolmistress, 
making allowance for youthful spirits yet keeping 
them in strict order. Some objected to these limita- 
tions, but the food was so good and the bedrooms 
so comfortable and the price of both so moderate 
that they put up with the lesser evil to enjoy the 
greater good. 

In her reply to Fuller, bidding him come to dinner 
on a certain day. Miss Grison mentioned that even- 
ing dress was unnecessary, an observation which 
seemed rather superfluous to the young man when 
he learned the quality of the establishment. He 
entered the large drawing-room to find the men in 
their workaday clothes, although the ladies had 


86 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


certainly done their best to smarten themselves for 
the evening function. Miss Grison, for instance, 
received him in a worn black silk dress, trimmed 
sparsely with jet and set off with cheap lace. She 
still looked as though carved out of wood and still 
stared with an unwinking gaze which somewhat con- 
fused the young man. There is nothing so embar- 
rassing to even a tired man or woman of the world 
as a steady look, and although Alan was conscious 
of being a perfectly proper person he yet winced 
at Miss Grison’s hard greeting. 

The visitor’s good looks and unusually smart 
clothes — although he simply wore a suit of blue 
serge — caused quite a sensation. Girls in cheap 
blouses, cheap skirts and still cheaper jewellery 
giggled and blushed when he was presented to them, 
and elderly dames with careworn faces and of anti- 
quated garb, straightened themselves with conscious 
dignity. There was something pathetic in their as- 
sumption of society manners, considering the dire 
poverty to which they were condemned. The men — 
they were an ordinary lot as regards looks and 
brains — were disposed to be hostile as they thought 
that the female portion of the establishment paid too 
much attention to the new-comer. But they were 
civil on the whole and the dull quarter of an hour 
before the seven o’clock meal was announced by a 
seedy man-servant — termed grandiloquently the 
butler — passed off fairly well. Fuller was quiet 
and observant, and chatted mostly to his hostess, al- 
though for politeness’ sake he had to address a few 
observations on safe topics to ladies, old and young 
and middle-aged. 

The dinner was plentiful and nourishing, if not 
particularly dainty, consisting of Scotch broth, 
Irish stew, rice pudding with tinned apricots and 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 87 


American cheese. The boarders provided their own 
liquid refreshments, as Miss Grison merely supplied 
water in large glass jugs. Consequently there were 
many private bottles on the table, ranging as to 
their contents from pale ale to whisky: some of the 
better-off lodgers even indulging in cheap claret. 
Miss Grison drank water, and her guest, since she 
offered him nothing better, followed suit. 

^T would banish alcohol of every description 
from my table,” she whispered, with stern apology, 
'Tor it was my dear dead brother’s curse. But if I 
kept a temperance hotel I doubt if the business 
would pay so well.” 

“Then it does pay,” remarked Fuller with a side- 
glance at her worn dress. 

“Oh, yes,” she responded indifferently, “I manage 
to keep my head above water and to save a trifle 
against rainy days, and old age. Ah, there is our 
usual late comer, Mr. Bakche. Now his soup will 
have to be brought back, which puts the servants 
out. These Orientals have no idea of time, Mr. 
Fuller.” 

Alan politely agreed and glanced carelessly at the 
new-comer, only to give a more earnest look later 
on, for Mr. Bakche was decidedly out of place 
amongst that shabby assemblage. He was perfectly 
arrayed in a well-cut evening dress, with pearl studs 
and patent leather shoes. Tall and slim, he was 
yet sinewy in his looks and possessed an admirable 
figure, which the close-fitting clothes set off to great 
advantage. He had clearly-cut features, a dark 
complexion, as became an Eastern, and wore a small 
black mustache, well twisted over very red lips and 
very white teeth. On the whole he was a hand- 
some fellow and his air was somewhat haughty and 
reserved. As Alan observed, he ate only plain boiled 


88 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


rice, uncooked fruit, and drank water, just as if 
he were an anchorite^ The looks of the man and 
the abstinence of the man aroused Fuller’s curiosity, 
and he thought that he would like to talk to Mr. 
Bakche as well as to Miss Grison. Meanwhile he 
asked for information. 

"'He is an Indian prince, so he says,” replied Miss 
Grison in a whisper. “I understand that his full 
name is Mr. Morad-Bakche, which he told me 
means, in his own language, ‘Desire accomplished.’ 
He is only in England for a few months on some 
mission connected with the recovery of his family 
property lost during the Mutiny, and my house was 
recommended to him by a former boarder who went 
out to Ceylon.” 

“He has a striking personality,” said Fuller when 
this information was given, and then asked his 
hostess about Jotty. “Mr. Latimer told me that you 
intended to give the boy a chance in life, Miss 
Grison. It is very good of you to do So.” 

She shrugged her sloping shoulders. “Oh, I don’t 
know,” she answered, sinking her metallic voice. 
“I want a page-boy to open and shut the door, so as 
to save the servants’ legs. Jotty does as well as 
another and since my poor Baldwin took an interest 
in him, of course I feel that it is my duty to do what 
I can. I have had him washed and dressed and fed 
and have given him the more Christian name of 
Alonzo. The boarders do not know his real name, 
if indeed it can be called one, and they are not aware 
that he is the boy who appeared at the inquest.” 

“They know, I presume, that it was your brother 
who was murdered ?” 

“Oh yes, the name appeared in the newspapers, 
and I had to give evidence at the inquest, so there 
was no keeping the relationship quiet. But I beg of 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 89 


yoUj Mr. Fuller, to call Jotty by his new name of 
Alonzo, as I don’t want it generally known that I 
am helping my poor brother’s prot^e. As the head 
of the Establishment,” Miss Grison drew up her 
spare form proudly, “I do not like scandal to be 
connected with my name.” 

• “But, my dear lady, your behavior calls for noth- 
ing but praise.” 

“Human nature is more prone to blame than 
praise,” answered the hostess bitterly, and gave the 
signal to the ladies for departure. “We will leave 
you to smoke with the other gentlemen, Mr. Fuller, 
and afterwards you can come and talk to me in the 
drawing-room. Alonzo you will probably see when 
he opens the door for your departure,” and with 
a stiff bow she left the room at the head of the 
shabbily-dressed females, who thus followed the 
customs of the west end. 

For a time Alan was left severely alone, and 
smoked his cigarette in silence, since the men seemed 
to be too shy to venture on conversation, and had 
many matters to discuss among themselves. But 
after a time Mr. Bakche left his seat and moved to 
a chair at the young man’s elbow, offering, as he 
sat down, his cigarette-case, which was well filled. 

“You will find these particularly good,” said Mr. 
Bakche in a deep and mellow voice, which accorded 
well with his grave dignity. “I received them from 
a friend of mine in Constantinople.’^ 

“Thank you,” answered the solicitor readily, and 
anxious to respond to this politeness, “you are very 
kind.” 

“The kindness is on your part, Mr. Fuller.” 

“You know my name, Mr. Bakche?” 

“And you know mine, I observe. We have made 
mutual inquiries about one another, no doubt. Mr. 


90 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


Potter informed me about you; and Miss Grison, 
I presume, gave information about me.” 

'‘Yes,” assented Fuller easily. “She tells me that 
you are an Indian prince !” 

Bakche laughed in a silent manner. “She places 
me too high, Mr. Fuller, I assure you.” he responded 
quietly. “I come of a princely family, but I am not 
of princely rank. You can look upon me as a plain 
Mahometan gentleman of Tartar descent.” 

“Of Tartar descent,” echoed Fuller, who found 
his companion interesting. 

“Yes. Did Miss Grison tell you my full name?” 

“Morad-Bakche ! Indeed she did and gave me its 
meaning.” 

“ ‘Desire-accomplished,’ ” said the other, with half 
a sigh, “although I fear that my desire will never 
be accomplished. However, that is by the way. I 
wonder, Mr. Fuller, if you have read the ‘History 
of the Moguls.’ ” 

“I regret to say that I have not.” 

“Well, it is rather an unusual book for anyone 
to read unless he is a student. But you will find 
mentioned therein my ancestor, after whom I am 
called. He was also Morad-Bakche, the youngest 
son of Shah Jahan, who was descended from Timur 
the Tartar. My family were rich and famous when 
the Mogul emperors ruled at Delhi, but everything 
belonging to us was swept away in the Mutiny, as 
you English call it.” 

“I can quite understand that you give it a dif- 
ferent name,” said Alan sympathetically. “You 
naturally desired to be free.” 

“Naturally, but injudiciously, Mr. Fuller. If the 
British Raj ended, my unhappy country would be- 
come the cockpit of contending hosts. We are too 
divided in India to rule ourselves, and the great 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


91 


powers would interfere, so that we should only ex- 
change King Stork for Queen Log, or the reverse, 
as I forget the exact details of the fable. But what 
I mean is that England is a better ruler of our 
country than Germany or Russia would be.” 

‘‘Your sentiments are very liberal, Mr. Bakche.” 

“I have read history,” replied the other. “Believe 
me, Mr. Fuller, that if people only read history 
more carefully so many mistakes would not be made 
in this world. The past life of nations is more or 
less only what the future will be, making reasonable 
allowance for development.” 

Bakche talked on this strain for some time, and 
displayed a great knowledge of history, and be- 
trayed a shrewd observation of men and manners, 
so that Alan found the conversation very enjoyable. 
Later on, his companion became particular after 
general, and gave a few hints about his family. 

“At the time of the Mutiny my grandfather was 
the Rajah of Kam, which was a little-known state 
which is in the Madras presidency. That is, it 
was.” 

“Was,” repeated Fuller, surprised, “a state can- 
not vanish out of existence, Mr. Bakche, since it is 
land and ” 

“Oh, the land is still there and the villages and 
towns. But the name has been changed and my 
family have been turned out. I am the sole member 
left alive, Mr. Fuller. But I have no ambition to get 
back our former royalty.” 

“But I understood from Miss Grison that you 
had come to England on a mission of that sort.” 

“The good lady is wrong again. I want no for- 
feited title, but I do want certain property.” 

“I see. So you are applying to the Government ?” 

“No,” said Mr. Bakche unexpectedly and some- 


92 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


what grimly, property cannot be recovered by 
the Government. I have to search for it myself. 

It is- Here he checked himself. ^'But I don’t 

see why I should trouble you with all this dry 
talk.” 

‘It is most interesting, I assure you,” Alan as- 
sured him quite truthfully. 

“Then we must resume it on another occasion,” 
said Bakche, rising. “I have to keep an appoint- 
ment. Perhaps I shall see you again here.” 

“Possibly, but if I do not come again here is my 
card.” Fuller passed along his business address. 
“I shall be glad to see you at any time.” 

Bakche glanced at the card ponder ingly. “You 
are a solicitor, I see. It is probable that I may want 
a solicitor.” 

“I am at your service.” 

“You may not be when you know what I want,” 
said the Indian dryly, and with a sudden gleam in 
his dark eyes. “However I am glad that I have met 
you, and perhaps I may call and see you. Good- 
night, sir,” and with a grave bow Morad-Bakche 
took his departure from the room which was now 
almost empty. 

Fuller drew a deep breath as he rose to go to the 
drawing-room. His late companion being of an 
unusual kind had interested him not a little, but in 
spite of his suave manners and gentle voice there 
was something dangerous about him, betrayed for 
the moment by that sudden gleam of ferocity. Alan 
felt as though he had been playing with a tiger who 
had been careful for reasons of its own not to 
scratch, but would do so when the appointed time 
came for it to reveal its true nature. He half hoped 
that Bakche would not come to the Chancery Lane 
office, and regretted momentarily that he had given 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


93 


his card. But reflection made him laugh at his 
nervous dread, since he was well able to look after 
himself and need have no fear of Bakche or of any 
man. Besides he wanted to get all the business he 
could so as to make money and marry Miss Inder- 
wick, therefore it would have been foolish to lose 
sight of a prospective client. Wondering what the 
precise nature of the man’s business could be, Alan 
sauntered towards the drawing-room, when in the 
passage he came across a diminutive urchin with a 
peaked face, arrayed as a page. 

“Oh,” said Mr. Fuller, stopping, “so you are 
Alonzo.” 

“Yessir,” gasped the boy in one breath, and 
looked at the tall gentleman from under light eye- 
lashes out of light eyes. 

“You have another name?’’ 

“Nosir,” said the urchin again in a breath and 
lying glibly, “never was called anything but 
Alanzer.” 

Fuller nodded, seeing that the lad was loyal to 
Miss Grison, and did not try to wean him from his 
allegiance. All the same he wished to ask him 
questions about the dead man, but did not think the 
present moment a judicious one to do so. “Some 
day you must ask your mistress to let you come and 
see me at my office,” he remarked carelessly, and 
passed on. 

In a moment Jotty was tugging his coat-tail. 
‘'What jer want ter arsk?” 

“I shall tell you when the time comes. Do you 
know Mr. Latimer?” 

Jotty nodded with bright inquisitive eyes. “Him 
with the big coat like the bear them Italyains chivy 
about?” 

“Yes. You see that I know something about you, 


94 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


Alonzo. But you are quite right to say what you 
have said. I don’t want you to call and see me un- 
less Miss Grison permits you to.” 

^'Yer a lawr gent?” inquired Jotty, pondering. 

‘‘In Chancery Lane.” Fuller gave his number. 
“If you do happen to be passing, Mr. Alonzo, just 
look in and earn a few shillings.” 

“I’m game for that anyhow, if it doesn’t hurt 
her.” He jerked his head towards the room where 
Miss Grison was supposed to be. 

Fuller turned on him sharply. “Why should any- 
thing hurt her?” he inquired. 

Jotty did not answer directly. “She’s bin good 
t’ me, and he wos good — him es died, sir. I don’t 
want no hurt t’ come t’ her anyhow,” and with a 
flash of his light eyes the boy sprang down the 
stairs leading to the kitchen, while Alan entered the 
drawing-room wondering what the observation 
meant. It seemed impossible that any harm could 
come to Miss Grison out of any inquiry into the 
death of her brother. Again it struck Fuller that 
the woman’s reason for helping Jotty might not be 
entirely philanthropic. 

However he had no time to dwell on this par- 
ticular point, but looked about for Miss Grison, 
who was not to be seen. An elderly lady with a 
simper informed him that the landlady was in her 
own room, and pointed out the direction, so Fuller 
knocked at the door softly. The sharp voice of 
Miss Grison invited him to enter, and he found 
himself in a small apartment crowded with fur- 
niture. 

“Oh, here you are, Mr. Fuller,” said his hostess, 
rising from a low chair in which she was seated by 
the fire. “I thought you would find me here. I 
cannot stay listening to the twaddle they talk in the 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


95 


drawing-room, having much more serious things 
with which to occupy my thoughts/' 

‘'Very natural, after your great loss,'’ replied 
Alan, accepting the chair she pushed towards him. 
“I suppose you wonder why I have come to see 
you." 

“No," said Miss Grison in her sharp, blunt way. 
“You mentioned at Belstone that you would help 
me, and I am glad to have your assistance." 

“I can give it, if you will be frank with me." 

“What do you wish to know ?" Miss Grison took 
a fan from the mantelpiece as she spoke, and used 
it to screen her sallow cheeks from the fire. 

“Have you any idea who murdered your 
brother ?" 

“If I had, do you think I should invoke your 
assistance," she asked, evading his question dexter- 
ously. 

“Two heads are better than one," countered the 
solicitor. 

“True enough, and yet one head may be able to 
bring the beast who killed Baldwin to the scaffold.'’ 

“Then I must apologise for troubling you," said 
Alan, rising. “As I told you at Belstone my only 
desire to unravel this case is one of curiosity, and 
if you think that I am meddlesome I ’’ 

“No! no! no! You are really very good. Sit 
down and I shall answer what questions you like. 
After all I should be glad to have the advice of a 
solicitor for nothing, unless you expect six and 
eightpence, Mr. Fuller." 

“I expect nothing but straight replies to my ques- 
tions, Miss Grison." 

“Go on, then. As to the one you have already 
asked, I can say nothing at present. I don’t know 
for certain who murdered Baldwin.’’ 


96 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


^‘But you have some suspicion?” 

‘‘Nothing that has tangible proof 

Apparently she would not put her feeling against 
Sorley into words, so Alan tried another tack. 
“Would you mind telling me your history?” 

“And that of Baldwin, I suppose. Why should 
I?’’ 

“Because I may then learn if there is anything 
in his life or in your life which would cause his 
death.” 

“I fear you will be disappointed, Mr. Fuller,’’ 
she replied coldly, “for my history and that of 
Baldwin is uneventful on the whole. We are the 
children of a doctor who practised at Canterbury, 
and who made money. Mr. Sorley was a patient 
of my father's and took a fancy to Baldwin when 
he came home from Oxford, where he was being 
educated. When Baldwin finished his college ca- 
reer and got his degree 

“Oh,” Alan was plainly surprised, “he got his 
degree, did he?” 

“Baldwin was an extremely clever man,” cried 
Miss Grison impetuously, and her hands trembled 
with emotion. “I don’t see why you should ask 
me such a question in such a manner. He took his 
degree with great credit, and came home to go in 
for the law. But Mr. Sorley, who was writing his 
book on precious stones, offered to make Baldwin 
his secretary, and the offer was accepted because 
my father had died and did not leave us so well off 
as was expected. My brother went to The Monas- 
tery and I stayed with my mother for some years, 
until she died. Then I paid a visit to Belstone, and 
Mrs. Inderwick, who was then alive, asked me to 
remain as her companion. I was with her for 
years, until she died, and managed to gather enough 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


97 


money out of my salary to start this hoarding- 
house. Shortly after Marie was born her mother 
died, and she was left to the grandmother of Henny 
and Jenny to look after/^ 

“Why not to you ?” 

“Because I had already left the place,’’ said Miss 
Grison, flushing, and with sparkling eyes. “Sorley 
quarrelled with my brother as he quarrelled with 
everyone, and it ended in Baldwin being dismissed.” 

“But what reason was given for his dismissal?” 

Miss Grison hesitated and looked at the fire. 
“I suppose I may as well talk candidly to you, 
since so much rests on your knowing the exact 
truth.” 

“It will be just as well,” said Fuller positively. 

“Well then,” she drew a deep breath, “although 
I loved Baldwin and although he was clever and 
amiable, he had a weak character. He learned to 
smoke opium and he took more drink than was 
good for him. In a moment of madness, and be- 
cause Mr. Sorley paid him so badly, he forged his 
employer’s name to a small check for five pounds. 
Mr. Sorley found this out and threatened to pros- 
ecute him, especially as Baldwin — I don’t deny it 
— made himself objectionable to Mrs. Inderwick. 
However, Mr. Sorley did not prosecute ” 

“Why not ? He doesn’t seem to me to be a mer- 
ciful man.” 

“He’s a cruel, hard beast,” said Miss Grison 
fiercely, “and you heard my opinion of him at 
Belstone. It was no fault of his that Baldwin was 
not put in jail. I managed to stop that.” 

“In what way ?” 

“I sha’n’t tell you; there is no need to tell you, 
Mr. Fuller. It is enough for you to know that I had 
the power to stop the prosecution and did so. I 


98 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


had just started this boarding-house, and I brought 
Baldwin here. But what with his drink and his 
smoking opium, he behaved so badly that, dearly 
as I loved him, I had to find another home for him, 
or be ruined. I got him a home with a doctor, who 
looked after him, but Baldwin ran away and went 
to Rotherhithe, for there he was near the opium 
dens. I begged and implored him to lead a better 
life. He always promised, and he always failed to 
keep his promise. All I could do was to allow him 
so much a week, which I did, as I stated in my 
evidence at the inquest. He lived a degraded life 
at Mother Slaig’s house, which is down a slum, and 

there he met with his death at the hands of 

She stopped short. 

"‘At the hands of the man whom you suspect,'' 
finished Alan bluntly. 

“I never said it was a man," retorted Miss Grison 
abruptly. 

"It couldn't possibly be a woman." 

"I never said that either." 

"Then what do you say?" 

"Nothing, because I am certain of nothing. You 
have heard the story you wish to hear, so make 
what use you can of it." 

"I shall do so if you will answer one other ques- 
tion ?" 

"What is it?" She screened her face. 

"Did your brother steal the peacock of jewels 
from The Monastery?" 

The screen dropped. "Marie has been telling 
you about that." 

"She told me the legend of the jewels and the 
cryptogram. But of course as she was a child when 
the peacock was stolen, she could say nothing about 
the theft. But as Inspector Moon learned from 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


99 


Jotty, your brother had the peacock in his posses- 
sion.” 

^That is true.” 

"‘And he was murdered on account of the pea- 
cock ?” 

“I believe so.” She clasped and unclasped her 
hands feverishly, not giving him time to ask an- 
other question. “Do you know who stole it from 
Belstone ?” 

“Your brother, since he had it at Mother Slaig’s.” 

“No. He stole it from me and I stole it from 
Mr. Sorley.” 

“You stole it!” Fuller started up in amazement. 
“Why did you?” 

“Oh, I had good reason to, I assure you. I am 
not ashamed of my theft. That peacock ruined 
Baldwin, and that peacock shall ruin ” 

“Mr. Sorley,” broke in Fuller, keeping his eyes 
on her face. 

“No! no.” She flung up her hands. “It will 
ruin me! me! me!” 


CHAPTER VII 


YULETIDE 

Alan could make nothing of Miss Orison’s final 
remark, for after stating — and in a somewhat hys- 
terical fashion — that the peacock would ruin her, 
she asked him to leave. In vain he asked for a more 
detailed explanation. Recovering her usual wooden 
manner, she declined to speak further, and Fuller 
returned to the rooms at Barkers Inn to report the 
result of his visit to Dick. It was unsatisfactory, 
and Alan said as much. 

‘T don’t agree with you,” remarked Latimer, af- 
ter some reflection. ‘‘You have seen Jotty ticketed 
as Alonzo — what a name; and have learned the 
early history of this unfortunate brother and sister. 
Finally, you have met with Mr. Morad-Bakche.” 

“He’s got nothing to do with the matter any- 
how.” 

“My dear son, George Inderwick obtained this 
treasure you are looking for, in India. Simon Fer- 
rier manufactured the peacock in India, and Mr. 
Morad-Bakche comes from India.” 

“So do half a hundred other students of the 
kind,” retorted Fuller. “You are too suspicious, 
Dick, and see a bird in every bush.” 

“Perhaps I am. But I should like to know why 
Mr. Bakche was so friendly with you and told you 
so much about himself. Orientals are generally 
reserved and don’t talk all over the shop. Mr. Bak- 
che told you that he had come to look after some 
family property. How do we know but what it 
100 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


lOI 


consists of those gems which the Begum of Kam 
gave to George Inderwick ?” 

“Over one hundred years ago, remember. How 
could Bakche know about them?” 

“Orientals have long memories. However, I 
admit that I may be unduly suspicious, as you 
observe, Alan. All the same I should like to 
know what Mr. Bakche is doing in Miss Orison’s 
house and why he was so friendly to you even 
to the extent of hinting that you might be his 
solicitor.” 

“Well then, if he does consult me he will have 
to state his reason. And if that has to do with the 
Begum’s gems, I shall know where I am. Your 
imagination is too vivid, Dick.” 

“It is not imagination but the use of a sixth sense, 
which gives me impressions contrary to facts,” 
insisted Mr. Latimer, “and if ” 

“Oh, I know you believe in all that occult rub- 
bish,” interrupted Fuller in a rather rude way, “but 
I am too matter-of-fact to be superstitious.” . 

“Too obstinate to change your opinion, you 
mean,” replied Dick equably, “Well, well, my son, 
we will not quarrel over the matter. Time will 
show if I am right. In the meantime what do you 
make of Miss Orison’s statement that the peacock 
would ruin her ?” 

“I can make nothing of it, and ask you for an 
explanation.” 

“Humph! The riddle is hard to guess. The 
only thing I can say is that she dreads lest Sorley 
should learn of her theft. If so, he would prose- 
cute her and so she would be ruined.” 

“She is not afraid of Sorley.” 

“Not now, because he doesn’t know — so far as 
we can see — that she stole the peacock.” 


102 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


''But why did she tell me that? If I told Sor- 
ley ’’ 

^'Miss Grison knows that you are on her side, so 
to speak, and will not say anything to Sorley, who 
is dead against your marriage with Miss Inder- 
wick.” 

Alan ruffled his hair, as was his custom when 
perplexed. can make nothing of the matter,” he 
cried, greatly exasperated. “What’s to be done?” 

“See Sorley at Christmas when you go down to 
Belstone,” advised Dick in a calm way, “and hear 
why he wants to discuss cryptograms with you. In 
that way you may get on the trail of the lost 
peacock.” 

“But if Sorley has it. Miss Grison need not be 
afraid that he will ruin her, Dicky. If she is a 
thief, Sorley is a murderer.” 

“We can’t be sure of that.” 

“If he has the peacock we can be sure.” 

“First catch your hare,” observed Latimer sen- 
tentiously. “In other words, my son, wait and 
learn if Sorley has the thing. It’s no use theo- 
rizing, Alan ; we can do nothing until we learn more. 
Bakche probably will call and see you, so we shall 
learn what he has to do. with the matter.” 

“He has nothing to do with it, I am sure,” said 
Fuller vehemently. 

“My sixth sense tells me otherwise,” observed 
Dick dryly. 

“Hang your sixth sense.” 

“By all means. But to continue: Jotty will come 
and see you, sooner or later, I feel convinced, and 
then you can learn.” Dick paused. 

“Learn what?” 

“My sixth sense doesn’t tell me. Wait and 
see.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


103 


''Oh, hang it, Dick, what nonsense you talk ! It’s 
all moonshine.” 

"I grant that,” returned Latimer serenely. "Un- 
til we can gather more facts it is certainly all moon- 
shine. But since seeing you last I have learned a 
fact which may startle you. Moon told me when 
I went to look him up yesterday, Baldwin Grison 
was a murderer.” 

"What’s that you say?” cried Alan, as startled 
as Dick could wish. 

"Ah, I thought I’d raise your hair. Yes, my son. 
A couple of months ago, in the opium den kept by 
Chin-Chow — or rather in the lane outside it — a 
well-dressed man was found dead. He had been 
knocked on the head with some blunt instrument of 
the bludgeon kind. From letters and cards found 
in his pockets it was discovered that he was an inde- 
pendent gentleman who lived in the west end, and 
who went down to Rotherhithe to indulge in the 
black smoke. His watch and studs and purse had 
been taken, so it was supposed that he had been 
robbed by some scoundrel haunting those very 
shady parts. Inspector Moon could find nothing, 
however, to point out the criminal, but has always 
been on the hunt. The other day he came across 
the dead man’s watch, which had been pawned by 
Mother Slaig. She said that Grison had given it to 
her instead of money for his rent and had stated 
that it was his own watch. Moon thinks that 
Mother Slaig is quite innocent of guilty knowledge 
and that Grison, being hard up, must have knocked 
down and robbed the dead man when they both left 
Chin-Chow’s opium den. Search was made in 
Grison’s room afterwards, and under a loose board 
the studs of the victim were discovered. So there 
is no doubt that Grison murdered the man for 


104 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


money and was afterwards murdered by his un- 
known assassin for the sake of the peacock. It is 
just as well that Grison is dead, as he certainly 
would have been arrested and hanged for his 
crime.’’ 

‘'Destiny gave him a dose of his own gruel,” said 
Alan thoughtfully. “He must have been a bad lot, 
in spite of his sister’s eulogies.” 

“Well,” remarked Dick with a shrug, “Sorley’s 
opinion of the man seems to be more correct than 
Miss Grison’s. Poor soul, I wonder what she will 
say when she learns that her brother acted in this 
way ?” 

“She will be thankful that his violent death pre- 
vented his appearance on the scaffold,” said 
Alan dryly. “What is Moon doing about the 
matter?” 

“Nothing. What can he do? Grison is dead, 
and the relatives of the victim, being of good posi- 
tion and well off, are not anxious to have a fuss 
made over the matter, since the murder took place 
in such a locality. You can well understand that, 
Alan, my son.” 

“Yes, I can well understand that. Well, Grison 
had to pay very speedily for his wickedness. You 
don’t think that a relative of the dead man killed 
him out of revenge.” 

“Oh, dear me, no! The relatives are most re- 
spectable, and never went near Rotherhithe. The 
first murder has nothing to do with the second, I 
assure you, Alan. However, there is nothing more 
to be said about Grison’s crime and we must content 
ourselves in learning who killed him.” 

“After what you have told me, I don’t think he is 
worth it.” 

“Worth revenging, do you mean? Well, perhaps 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 105 


not; but the peacock is worth the search for the 
assassin, since finding him means finding the means 
to discover the treasure/^ 

''And you suspect Sorley, with Bakche as a factor 
in the case?’' 

"I suspect no one at present, and only my sixth 
sense, which is not invariably to be relied upon, 
thinks that your Indian friend may be mixed up 
with the matter. Go down to Belstone, Alan, and 
see if Sorley till talks about cryptograms. If he 
does, and submits one for your solution, it will 
probably have to do with the peacock, if Miss In- 
derwick’s tale of her ancestor and Ferrier is to be 
believed.” 

"Of course it is to be believed,” said Alan tartly; 
"however, I shall make quite sure by seeing Per- 
rier’s manuscript for myself.” 

"It will be just as well,” said Latimer, ending the 
conversation, and so matters were settled for the end 
of the year. Shortly afterwards Dick went to Paris 
to keep his Christmas as a kind of heathen festival 
with an artist friend in the Latin Quarter, while 
Alan packed his kit to journey to Belstone and en- 
joy the simpler pleasures of a British Yuletide. 

The great season of the Church was on this occa- 
sion quite one of the old style, such as would have 
delighted the heart of Dickens. That is, it had 
plenty of snow and holly and mistletoe peace-on- 
earth, good-will-to-men and such like traditional 
things which had to do with the Holy Birth. The 
undulating hills around Belstone were clothed in 
spotless white, and the ancient trees in the park of 
the Inderwicks stood up gaunt and bare and black 
amidst the chilly waste. Coals and blankets, food 
and drink were bestowed on the villagers by the 
gentry around, who suddenly seemed to recollect 


io6 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


that Belstone existed, so that the poor had what 
Americans call ‘hhe time of their lives.’’ Mr. Ful- 
ler also behaved philanthropically, although he was 
by no means rich, and the sole person who did not 
act in the traditionally charitable manner was Mr. 
Randolph Sorley. He said bluntly that he had 
enough to do to look after himself, and gave his 
blessing instead of more substantial gifts. As to 
Marie, she never had a single penny, which she 
could call her own, and lamented that poverty, and 
Sorley’s niggardly ways as her guardian, prevented 
her from obeying the kind dictates of her heart. 

^'But when I am of age and have my money,” 
she informed Alan after church on Christmas Day, 
“I shall make everyone happy.” 

“You have made me happy anyhow,” replied 
Fuller, enjoying the stolen moment which they had 
obtained by evading Sorley, “so nothing else 
matters.” 

“You greedy boy,” laughed Marie, patting his 
cheek, “you are not the only person in the world I 
have to consider. My uncle is my uncle.” 

“And your uncle is your guardian,” said Fuller 
grimly. “I wish he were not, my dearest, for the 
course of our true love will never run smooth so 
long as he has a say in the matter. I don’t like 
him.” 

“You must like him to-night when he comes to 
dinner at the vicarage,” said Marie with alarm. “If 
you aren’t agreeable, Alan, he will be so unpleas- 
ant.” 

“I am always agreeable, in my father’s house,” 
said Alan stiffly, and then he kissed away her fears. 
“There, dear, don’t worry; I am a most diplomatic 
person, I assure you.” 

Marie agreed, for everything that Alan did was 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


107 


right in her eyes, and afterwards ran away across 
the snow to join her uncle, who was looking for 
her. Alan returned to the vicarage to find his 
mother much exercised in her mind over the Christ- 
mas dinner, and had to console her as usual. Every 
year Mrs. Fuller doubted the success of the meal, 
and every year it proved to be all that could be 
desired. Alan reminded her of this. 

‘‘My dear mother, you have never had a failure 
yet. To-night we shall have a very jolly meal.’' 

“I hope so,” sighed the vicar’s wife, “but I con- 
fess that I am not quite at rest in my mind about 
the pudding.” 

“And there may be something wrong with the 
mince pies?” 

“It’s very likely there will be, since the oven 
doesn’t heat properly.” 

“And the roast beef will not be up to the mark?” 

“Now, Alan, you are making fun of me. You 
don’t know what it is to be a housewife, my dear.” 

“I don’t, mother. Dick and I are very rough and 
ready in our domestic arrangements. You have 
asked Sorley to dinner as usual, I hear from Marie.” 

“Yes, dear,” replied Mrs. Fuller complacently, 
“your father knows he is not well off, and wishes to 
show him this yearly attention. Besides, since you 
love Marie, who is a sweet girl, you should be 
pleased.” 

“I am pleased,” said her son gravely, “although 
Sorley doesn’t approve of my attentions to his 
niece.” 

Mrs. Fuller bristled. “What better match does 
the man want for the girl,” she demanded, all her 
maternal feathers on end ; “you have good blood in 
your veins, Alan, and good prospects, besides being 
very handsome and ” 


io8 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘I’m a paragon, mother, there’s no doubt of that. 
All the same, Sorley, as you observed when I was 
last here, wants a title and wealth for Marie.” 

“He’ll never find either in this back-water of life’s 
river,” retorted Mrs. Fuller rather crossly, “and 
since Marie loves you there is no more to be said, in 
my opinion.” 

“There’s a good deal more to be said in Sorley’s,” 
said Alan dryly. 

“He should remember his own love romance, dear, 
and be more sympathetic with Marie’s desire to 
become your wife.” 

“I never knew that Sorley had a love romance, 
mother. I thought he was wrapped up body and soul 
in his book on precious stones.” 

“Oh, he has always been writing that, Alan,” said 
Mrs. Fuller, with a shrug to hint that she did not 
think much of the man’s literary abilities, “but he 
was courting Miss Marchmont over twenty years 
ago — that was shortly after Squire Inderwick’s 
death, and before Marie was born. You know, dear, 
her father died almost immediately after the sweet 
girl’s birth, and appointed Mr. Sorley to be her 
guardian. He settled at The Monastery with his 
sister. Mr. Inderwick and that miserable man Orison 
were with them for a time. His sister also stayed as 
Mrs. Inderwick’s companion, but when her brother 
was dismissed, she went to London and started that 
boarding-house in Thimble Square, Bloomsbury. 
Marie was brought up by old Granny Trent, who 
was the housekeeper. When she grew too old, and 
Marie went to school at Brighton, her grand- 
daughters, Jane and Henrietta, came to look after 
the house, and do the active work, although Granny 
superintends still, I believe. Then Marie returned 
from school, and ” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


109 


'‘Mother, mother, you are repeating history,'’ in- 
terrupted Alan, vexed by this prolix narrative. "I 
know all this. What about Sorley’s love affair?” 

"He loved Miss Marchmont, and she died.” 

"Was she one of the Marchmonts of Augar Place, 
near Lewes ?” 

"Yes ; the only daughter and heiress. Mr. Sorley 
would have got a lot of money and property had he 
married her. But she died, and the Manor, along 
with the income, passed to distant cousins after 
the death of old Mr. Marchmont some ten years 
ago.” 

"What did Miss Marchmont die of?” 

"A chill contracted by getting wet in the hunting- 
field, dear. Mr. Sorley was very fond of her, and 
greatly lamented her death.” 

"Or the loss of her money,” said the solicitor 
doubtfully. 

"No, dear. He really and truly loved her. I 
sometimes think, Alan, that you are not quite fair to 
Mr. Sorley. He has had his troubles.” 

"I don’t like him personally,” said Fuller roundly, 
"there is an insincere air about him.” 

"I am not particularly fond of him myself,” con- 
fessed Mrs. Fuller in an apologetic way, "but he is 
always agreeable to me. And, although he has 
lived here for quite five and twenty years, if not 
more, there has never been a word said against his 
character save that he is not generous. And his 
poverty excuses that, Alan. So try and be agreeable 
to him this evening, dear,” finished Mrs. Fuller, 
making the same request as Marie had done. 

"Of course I shall be agreeable. I wish to be 
very friendly with him.” 

"That is natural, dear, since you desire to gain his 
consent to your marriage with Marie. But, dear me. 


no THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


I am quite forgetting the dinner,” and Mrs. Fuller 
hastened to the kitchen with her mind full of the 
pudding, the mince pies, and the roast beef. 

Alan’s reason for being friendly with Sorley was 
not entirely due to the cause mentioned by his 
mother, although he was anxious enough to gain the 
man’s consent to his wooing. But he felt confident 
that — unless for a purpose — Sorley would never give 
that same consent, since he did not think that the 
vicar’s son was a good match for his pretty and long- 
descended niece. In a year when Marie was of age, 
the consent of the guardian could be dispensed with ; 
so that particular matter did not trouble the young 
man overmuch. He really desired to establish 
friendly relations with Sorley in order to learn if he 
had the peacock of jewels in his possession, as it was 
Marie’s property and should be given to her. Since 
the uncle loved jewels, and probably knew that the 
peacock, besides being covered with precious stones, 
could indicate the whereabouts of a box filled with 
similar gems, it was probable that he would seek 
to keep the ornament to himself. Always provided 
that he possessed it, of which Alan was not quite 
sure. But if he did have it, then the supposition 
would be that he had murdered Baldwin Grison for 
its possession. It was difficult for Fuller to see what 
he would say in the way of excuse for owning it. 

‘‘But, of course,” thought the young man, when he 
went to dress for dinner, and threshed out the matter 
in his own mind, “if he has it he won’t make any 
fuss about my seeing it, should he desire me to 
solve the riddle since at present there has been no 
public mention that Grison was murdered for its 
sake. 

“But if he does show it to me ” here he paused, 

greatly perplexed, as he foresaw how difficult it 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


III 


would be to know how to act. Even if the posses- 
sion of the Peacock proved Sorley to be a criminal, 
for the sake of Marie, Alan was unwilling to bring 
him to justice. And yet, on the face of it, the man 
should pay for his crime. “It’s confoundedly diffi- 
cult to know what to do,” was Fuller’s natural 
conclusion. 

The Christmas dinner was a great success in spite 
of the doubts expressed by the hostess, and the five 
people who sat down to enjoy it, passed a very 
agreeable hour. Marie had a healthy appetite, and 
had no reluctance in satisfying it on fare, which was 
much more dainty than that prepared by Henny 
Trent, who acted as cook at The Monastery. The 
girl in a simple white dress and without any orna- 
ments, save a childish necklace of red coral, looked 
very pretty, and behaved very charmingly. By the 
end of the quiet evening Alan was more in love 
with her than ever, and wondered if the earth con- 
tained a more delightful little lady. Sorley also 
made himself most agreeable, being soothed by the 
excellent dinner, and showed no disposition to frown 
on the young couple. As to Mrs. Fuller, now that 
the dinner was off her mind, she beamed on every- 
one, including her rosy-faced sturdy little husband, 
who overflowed with Christian charity, which did 
not need the season of Yuletide to enhance its 
ready generosity. 

Mr. Sorley was perfectly dressed as usual, and 
looked wonderfully well in his young-old way, which 
was so deceptive. He was well-informed too, and 
talked on this subject and that, in a most exhaustive 
manner, arguing with the vicar and agreeing with 
Mrs. Fuller, and giving an occasional word to Alan. 
Afterwards in the quaint old drawing-room the 
conversation turned on the death of Grison, although 


II2 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


Mr. Fuller did his best to taboo the subject, on the 
plea that it upset his wife. 

“Mrs. Fuller always liked the poor man/’ said the 
vicar finally. 

“He was agreeable and clever, but woefully 
weak,” confessed the old lady. “If he had only 
stayed here, he would never have met with such a 
death.” 

“I would willingly have kept him at The Monas- 
tery,” explained Sorley in a frank manner, “but he 
was rude to my sister, and, owing to his drunken 
habits, kept the house in a constant state of turmoil. 
I had to dismiss him although I gave him every 
chance to reform. And you heard, Alan,” he added, 
turning to the young man, who was listening in- 
tently, “how his sister blamed me for his death.” 

“What’s that ?” asked the vicar sharply. 

“Not directly,” said the guest calmly. “She could 
scarcely do that seeing I was fifty miles away at The 
Monastery when Grison was murdered in Rother- 
hithe. But his sister said that my dismissal made 
him take more than ever to opium smoking, and that 
drove him to the slum where he met with this tragic 
end.” 

“Pooh ! pooh ! Louisa Grison talks rubbish,” said 
Mr. Fuller sturdily. “She was always crazy about 
Baldwin, although he certainly had his good points, 
foolish as he was. Don’t let us talk any more about 
the matter. It upsets my wife, and is not a topic 
for Christmas Day.” 

“Oh, I don’t mind hearing of his death,” protested 
Mrs. Fuller, “I am only too anxious to know who 
killed him, poor creature.” 

“I shouldn’t be surprised to hear that he killed 
himself,” remarked Sorley in an abrupt way. 

“Oh, that’s impossible, said Alan quickly; “the 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 




medical evidence proved conclusively that he was 
murdered, stabbed to the heart.” 

'‘Well, my boy, a man can stab himself to the 
heart, ean’t he?” 

“Yes,” replied the young rnan dryly, “but he 
could scarcely hide the instrument with which he 
killed himself after his death, and that, as we know. 
Is missing.” 

“What sort of instrurnent was it, Alan?” asked 
Mrs. Fuller. 

'^A stiletto, it is thought, mother.” 

^'That sounds as though an Italian had a hand in 
the crime,” remarked the vicar; “they generally use 
the stiletto !” 

“I can’t say who killed him, or of what nationality 
the assassin was, father, since nothing can be 
learned likely to cast light on the subject. But I am 
sure of one thing from what Fatimer has told me, 
which is, that Grison did not ^tab himself. He had 
no reason to.” 

“Mad people never dP have any reason,” remarked 
Mr. Sorley pointedly. 

“But Grison was not mad.” 

“Indeed I have every reason to believe that he 
was,” insisted the other; “the father was an eccen- 
tric doctor who practised in Canterbury, and the 
mother of Louisa and Baldwin died in a lunatic 
asylum.” 

Mrs. Fuller nodded sadly. “Yes, Loiiisa told me 
as much,” she said, “and for that reason I excused 
her oddities and those of her brother. They certainly 
had queer ways, hadn’t they, John?” 

“Yes ! yes ! yes ! But no worse than other people,” 
rejoined Fuller senior, in his vigorous fashion, “but 
Louisa certainly manages her boarding-hoitse in a 
sane enough manner, as I found when I stayed there.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


114 


‘‘Did you stay there, father?” asked Alan. 

“Twice or thrice when I went to town years and 
years ago, although I have not stayed there lately. 
I wanted to help Louisa, poor soul. But now she is 
doing so well that there is no need for me to assist 
her by becoming a few days’ boarder. Baldwin may 
have been a trifle mad,” added the vicar, addressing 
Sorley, “since he sank so low and displayed such 
weakness ; but his sister is sane enough, I am sure of 
that.” 

“She did not speak very sanely the other day when 
attacking me, as Alan heard,” said Mr. Sorley 
significantly. “We were quietly having afternoon 
tea when Miss Grison rose and suddenly denounced 
me. She is mad.” 

“I don’t agree with you,” retorted the vicar.” 
“What do you say, Alan?” 

The young man shook his head with an embar- 
rassed laugh. “I have not seen sufficient of Miss 
Grison to pronounce an opinion,” he said, and turned 
to Marie, who was feeling rather neglected. “This 
is rather dull for you.” 

“And the subject, as I said before, is not a suit- 
able one for Christmas Day,” observed Mr. Fuller. 
“Marie, my dear, give us some music.” 

The girl obeyed with alacrity, as she had been 
yawning during the dreary talk of her elders. In a 
very musicianly style she played two or three 
classical pieces, and then with Alan sang some of 
Mendelssohn’s duets, in which their voices blended 
far more agreeably than Mr. Sorley approved oC 
The late conversation seemed to have upset his 
nerves, for he wandered in a restless manner round 
the room and betrayed a disposition to come between 
the young people, in strange contrast to his earlier 
demeanor. When Mrs. Fuller was playing an old- 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


1 15 


fashioned selection of melodies, called ’‘Irish Dia- 
monds,” which her husband loved, Sorley came to 
sit beside Alan and engage him in quiet conversation, 
while Marie and the vicar remained near the piano, 
listening to the variations on Garry Owen. 

“You must come over to The Monastery during 
this week, Alan,” said Mr. Sorley in a discreet 
whisper. “I should like to show you my collection 
of jewels, which will belong to Marie after I am 
gone.” 

“Oh, you will live for a long time yet,” said Alan 
affably. 

“I doubt it. I have my enemies like other men, 
and you need not be surprised if I meet with Grison’s 
fate, poor wretch.” 

“Whatever do you mean?” demanded the other 
sharply. 

“I mean that in the midst of life we are in death,” 
rejoined Sorley tartly, and in a somewhat enigmatic 
manner, “What else should I mean ?” 

“I’m hanged if I know,” said Alan frankly, and 
spoke from his heart. He really could not under- 
stand the man’s strange reference to a violent end. 

“Well! well! well!” remarked his companion 
with affected cheerfulness, “it may be all imagina- 
tion on my part. But when one has such a collec- 
tion of gems as I have in the house, it is not 
improbable that an attempt may be made to get 
them on the part of some thief.” 

“Have you any idea that such an attempt will be 
made ?” 

“Oh dear no. I speak generally. For my col- 
lection is valuable, Alan, although perhaps not 
worth so much money as those gems which were 
given to George Inderwick over one hundred years 
ago, by the Begum of Kam. Why do you start ?’^ 


ii6 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


he asked in surprise. “Marie told me that she re- 
lated the story of the jewels to you.'‘ 

“Yes— that is— she did say something about the 
matter,” stammered Alan, “only I did not know 
that Kam was the place where George Inderwick 
went on behalf of the H.E.I.C. to serve as a native 
drill sergeant.” 

^'Oh yes. The Rajah of Kam*s town and state in 
the Madras Presidency. You can see the manuscript 
to-morrow when you come over. Hush, the music 
is stopping; don’t say anything more. Let us keep 
these matters to ourselves,” and having thus forced 
Fuller, as it werej to be his confidant, Sorley strolled 
across the room to congratulate Mrs. Fuller on her 
still brilliant touch. 

Alan remained where he was on the sofa, staring 
at the carpet, and wondering what revelations would 
be forthcoming when he visited The Monastery 
the next day, for he was determined to pay the 
promised visit as soon as he could, lest Sorley should 
change his mind. But what startled him most was to 
learn that the jewels had belonged to the Begum of 
Kam. And that was the very place mentioned by 
Morad-Bakche as the former territory of his family. 

“Dick was right,” thought Alan. “Bakche is 
after the gems of the peacock.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


AN EXPLANATION 

For the next two or three days Alan enjoyed the 
rural peace of the country and gave his parents a 
great deal of his society. Anxious as he was to 
follow up the hint of Sorlev with reference to the 
story of George Inderwick’s treasure, he did not 
display undue eagerness, since it was better to behave 
in a casual manner, lest suspicion should be aroused. 
The young man did not wish Sorley to think that 
he knew too much about the matter, or had been 
making any inquiries, for it was not improbable that 
he might take alarm and decline all assistance. 
Fuller felt certain that there was a skeleton in 
Sorley's cupboard, safely locked up, but, ‘^as sus- 
picion ever haunts the guilty mind,” it would require 
a very slight circumstance to render the worthy gen- 
tleman uneasy. Therefore Alan pretended to an in- 
difference which he did not feel, and kept away 
from The Monastery, until his diplomacy was re- 
warded about the middle of the week, by the appear- 
ance of Marie with a request that he should come over. 

“This afternoon Uncle Ran wants to see you,” 
said the girl pouting, for she was not pleased that 
Alan had kept clear of her company. ^^He has gone 
this morning to Lewes on his motor bicycle, and will 
be back at two o’clock to meet you.” 

“In that case,” said Fuller promptly, and glancing 
at his watch, “since it is just eleven, we can have 
three hours all to ourselves.” 

“I don’t think you want to pass all that time alone 
with me.” 

“Oh Marie, when you know how I love you.” 

117 


ii8 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘‘You don’t; you really and truly don’t;” said 
Miss Inderwick, who was looking provokingly pretty 
in a fur jacket and a fur toque; “if you loved me 
you wouldn’t waste your time as you do.” 

“Waste my time. Why not, when I am on a 
holiday?” 

“I don’t mean that sort of waste, you horrid boy. 
But you know that you are always in town and I am 
always here, so when you are down for a few days, 
you should be with me constantly.” 

“I should very much like to, my dearest spitfire, 
but would it be wise when your uncle discourages 
my attentions to you so pointedly?” 

“Oh!” Marie raised her eyebrows and pouted 
again. “If you are afraid of Uncle Ran there is no 
more to be said.” 

“There is a great deal more to be said,” retorted 
Alan, tucking her arm under his own, “and we can 
say it on our way to The Monastery. When the cat’s 
away at Lewes, we two dear little mice can play at 
Belstone. Marie, darling, don’t make faces ; we must 
be sensible.” 

“I am sensible; you have said dozens of times 
that I am the most sensible girl in the whole world.” 

“So you are. All the same we must be diplomatic 
in case your uncle ” 

“Bother my uncle.” 

“I think you do, my dear,” said Alan dryly, “and 
just now you are bothering me by being cross about 
nothing. Marie, if you don’t smile in your usual 
angelic way, I shall kiss you here in the open road. 
Smile, smile!” 

“I sha’n’t,” said Marie, trying to pucker her small 
face into a black frown, and then had to burst out 
laughing. “You silly boy!” She hugged his arm. 
“I spoil you, don’t I ?.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


119 


“You do, you do, like the angel you are.” 

“There’s a want of originality about you, Alan. 
You are always calling me an angel. What else 
am I?” 

“A goddess, a gazelle, a Queen of the May ” 

“In December; how ridiculous!” and Miss Inder- 
wick laughed gayly, her good temper quite restored. 

The lovers walked slowly through the village and 
up to the gates of the neglected park, chatting much 
in the same strain. Of course they talked great non- 
sense, as lovers do when together, and the language 
of Cupid can scarcely be described as instruct- 
ive. Alan was a sensible and clever young man, 
and Marie was by no means wanting in mother- 
wit, and yet their conversation was so characteristic 
of their several states of mind, which had entirely 
to do with the wooing of man and maid, that a 
common-sense person past the turtle-dove stage 
would have doubted their sanity. But then love is 
a madness which attacks the young at certain 
seasons, and custom has so sanctified the lunacy, that 
those so crazed are not locked up. And mercifully 
when the glamor of love is on them, they prefer to 
keep to themselves, so that indifferent people are 
not compelled to witness their eccentricities. Only 
when they were walking up the avenue, did the 
conversation become more reasonable. 

“Why does Uncle Ran wish to see you, Alan?” 
asked Marie curiously. 

“He intends to show me his collection of gems,” 
replied Fuller, who did not think it prudent to be 
too open, until he knew more of Sorley’s mind. He 
did not like the man, and suspected him of having 
committed a crime; but until he was certain of his 
guilt, he wished to keep silence. After all, the girl 
by his side was the daughter of the man’s sister, and 


1^0 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


her guardian> so it was best to say as little as possible. 

'‘Oh, he has got lovely jewels,” said Marie, readily 
accepting the explanation, Which certainly was a 
true one. “I wish he would let me wear some of 
them. It seCttis so Stupid to lock Up a lot Of beautiful 
diamonds and emeralds and sapphires. When they 
come to me — as Uncle Ran says they will — I sha’n’t 
leave them in theit* care, but wear them.” 

“You will look like the Queen of Sheba, my 
darling.” 

“Or like a rainbow,” replied Miss Inderwick 
smartly, “all sorts of colors sparkling like— like — ^ 
like frosts,” she finished, taking her illustration 
from the glittering rime on the bare trees. 

It was a perfect December day, and the blue sky 
arched over a white expanse of snow untrodden 
save for the track Up the avenue along which the 
young couple had travelled. By this time they had 
come in sight of the great mansion, and paused to 
admire its irregular beauty. Its red roofs were 
hidden Under billowy masses of dazzling whiteness, 
as they Caught the sunlight, and the darkly-green 
garment of ivy which clothed it was flecked every- 
where with snow wreaths. Icicles glittered like 
jewels hanging from eaves, porch, windows, and 
from the carved stonework, discernible through 
the greenery, sO that the place looked like a fairy 
palace. Although Marie, its fortunate possessor, 
saw the house daily, she could not forbear an ex- 
clamation of delight. 

“Isn’t it lovely, dearest?” 

“As lovely as you are, my darling,^’ assented Alan 
readily. “I think you might show me over the 
house, Marie, as I have never explored it com- 
pletely.” 

“I daresay. Uncle Ran won’t let anyone go over 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


121 


it, although no end of artists wish to come to it. 
He wouldn’t even let anyone paint a picture of the 
outside. I don’t know why ?” 

“Nor' do I,” murmured Fuller^ half to himself, 
“No more than I know why he was hot angry with 
Miss Orison for going over it uninvited.” 

“That was strange, ’’ replied Miss Inderwick 
thoughtfully, “but I think he is a little afraid of 
Miss Orison, dear. He thinks she is mad.” 

“What do you think?” 

“I haven’t seen enough of her to say. But Mrs. 
Millington, her greatest friend, told me that she 
thought Miss Orison’s mind Was giving way.” 

“It is certainly not apparent in her management 
of her boarding-house.” 

“Well, she may be mad on one point and sane on 
many,” remarked Marie pertinently, “she seems to 
hate Uncle Ran dreadfully.” 

“That is because she ascribes her brother’s dowm 
fall to him. But don’t let us talk about such dreary 
matters, darling, but look over the hoUse, and ar- 
range how we will restore it When we are married.” 

“And when we find the treasure,” cried Marie, 
skipping lightly Up the steps to the open door. 
“Come in, Alan. We must make the best of our 
time before Uncle Ran returns;” 

“He won’t be back until two o’clock.” 

“So he says, but I don’t trust him. He^s always 
trying to catch me in mischief, as if I ever had a 
chance of doing any. I shouldn’t be surprised if he 
pounced down on us unawares;” 

“In that case I can excuse myself by saying that 
I have come, at his request to see him,’^ said Alan 
promptly. “Lead the way, Marie, and let us look 
over the place from top to bottom.” 

Marie assented very readily to be her lover^s cice-^ 


122 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


rone, and for the next hour they were passing along 
corridors, peeping into rooms, ascending and de- 
scending stairs, and searching for secret chambers 
and outlets. All the time Marie talked, telling Alan 
tales about this room and that, which she had heard 
from Granny Trent, who had lived nearly the whole 
of her long life in the old building. But what 
struck Alan most was the absence of furniture. 
Room after room had been stripped bare, and the 
vast house gave him the impression of being an 
empty shell. Yet according to the old woman, 
whom they looked in to see in her particular den, 
the place had been crammed with treasures no later 
than twenty years ago when Mrs. Inderwick had died. 

‘‘But he’s sold them all,” mourned Granny, who 
did not seem to have much love for her master — 
“tables and chairs and wardrobes and pictures, and 
all manner of things, my dears. It’s a shame I say, 
for they belong to you. Miss Marie, and he ain’t 
got no right to get rid of your property.” 

Granny was a lively, active woman, small and 
shrivelled in her looks, with twinkling black eyes 
and an expressive face. Age did not seem to have 
dulled her faculties, for she spoke clearly and to 
the point, and what is more, intimated that she c-ould 
see through a brick wall, meaning in plain English 
— how easy it was to guess that the young couple 
were in love. 

“And a very good thing too,” said granny nod- 
ding sagely; “you being handsome and good and 
kind-hearted, Mr. Alan, or you wouldn’t be the son 
of them dears at the vicarage else. Just you marry 
my lamb, sir, as soon as you can get your pa to read 
the service, if it’s only to look after him.” 

“Mr. Sorley?” inquired Fuller pointedly. “You 
mean him?” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 123 


“And who else should I mean, Mr. Alan, if not 
him? A poor feckless thing I call him, selling up 
my lamb’s goods to waste money on bits of stones. 
Ah, if the luck of the Inderwicks wasn’t missing 
there’d be plenty of them.” 

“You mean the peacock?” 

“I do. That blessed bird that means good for- 
tune to my lamb here, sir. Them Orisons took it 
I’ll swear when they went away over twenty years 
ago, and took the luck along with them, for never 
will it come back — it’s the luck of the family I’m 
talking of, Mr. Alan — until the peacock is under 
this roof again.” 

“What sort of luck will it bring, Granny?” asked 
Marie eagerly. 

“Marriage to you and Mr. Alan here, a fortune 
when the riddle is read as it surely will be, and an 
outgoing for him, as is your uncle and don’t look 
after you, my lamb, as he should, drat him.” 

“Oh, he means well. Granny.” 

“If he means well, why don’t he do well,” retorted 
the old woman. “Never mind, the luck will come 
your way, my lamb, when you least expect it. Now 
go down to the dining-room, my dears, and I’ll tell 
Jenny to set out something for you to eat. You 
can’t live on love.” chuckled Granny, her eyes twink- 
ling. 

The two laughed and took her advice, even to the 
extent of making a very excellent luncheon, plain as 
the fare was. When the meal ended, Marie carried 
off Fuller to the library and lighted his cigarette 
with her own fair hands. When he was com- 
fortably puffing clouds of bluish smoke. Miss Inder- 
wick, perched on the arm of his chair, ruffled his 
hair and told him that he was the most disagreeable 
person in the wide world. This led to amiable con- 


124 THE PEACOCK OP JEWELS 


tradiction, finally to kissing and it was when they 
were in the middle of these philanderjngs, that they 
raised their eyes to see Mr. Sorley standing at the 
door. He was stiff with indignation, and looked 
more like a haughty unbending aristocrat than ever. 

‘‘So this is the way in which you deceive me, 
Marie?” he said with an angry look. ‘'How dare 
you?” 

“Why not,” said Fuller, as the girl sprang away 
from his chair in alarm, "I love Marie and she 
loves me. You must have seen that ages ago, Mr. 
Sorley.” 

“I did, sir, but the position does not meet with 
my approval,” 

“Who cares,” cried his niece defiantly, “I shan’t 
marry anyone but Alan.” 

‘Wou shall marry the man I select,” said Sorley 
sternly, ‘^unless-™-” 

“Unless what?” demanded Fuller coolly. He 
was perfectly sure that Marie would remain true to 
him, and therefore had no fear of her uncle, 

“I shall explain that when we are alone.” 

“Explain now,” said Miss Inderwick swiftly, “I 
have a right to know why you object to Alan becom- 
ing my husband,” 

“He has no money and no position.” 

“I shall make money and make a position,” said 
Alan calmly, “all in good time, Mr. Sorley, all in 
good time.” 

“He will be Lord Chancellor one day,” said 
Marie boldly, 

“You will have gray hairs by that time,” snapped 
her uncle, “and until he is Lord Chancellor, you 
certainly shan’t marry him.” 

“I shall. So there.” 

“You shall not,” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 125 


‘‘Unless/’ observed Alan smoothly, “you said 
unless, Mr. Sorley.” 

“Unless you find the Begum’s treasure.” 

“Oh, Uncle Ran,” cried Marie in dismay, “when 
you know that the peacock is lost, and without that 
no one can solve the riddle, or even know exactly 
what it is.” 

“The peacock is — ” began Sorley, and stopped 
short. “Never mind. Go away, my dear, and let 
me talk to Alan.” 

He spoke so mildly that Marie began to think 
better of the position. He did not appear to be so 
dead against her marriage with Fuller, as his earlier 
words had intimated. Alan, on his part, guessed 
from the abrupt stopping of the sentence, that Sor- 
ley knew something about the missing peacock 
which he did not wish to reveal while Marie was id 
the room. Acting on this hint he took the bull by 
the horns. 

“Look here, sir,” he said, rising to address his 
host more impressively, “I know that the discovery 
of this treasure is connected with some cryptogram 
which has to do with the lost peacock. I accept 
your terms, as, having experience in secret writings, 
I am sure that I can solve the mystery which has 
baffled everyone for so long. If I do, and the 
treasure is found, will you— as you say — consent to 
Marie becoming my wife.” 

“Yes,” said Sorley tersely and decisively, “but of 
course part of the treasure must be given to me.” 

“Oh, I shall buy your consent to my marriage 
with half of it,” said Marie in a rather contemptuous 
tone. 

Fuller secretly did not endorse this too generous 
offer, and determined that if he did solve the riddle, 
to hand over the gems to Miss Inderwick. But 


126 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


it was not diplomatic at the moment to insist upon 
this too much, particularly as Sorley had practically 
agreed to the marriage. “The first thing to do is 
to find the jewels,” said Alan easily, “and then 
things can be better arranged, Mr. Sorley.” 

“Very well,” said the old gentleman, taking it for 
granted that Alan as well as his niece agreed to the 
terms, extortionate as they were, “we understand 
one another. Marie, you can go away.” 

“But I want to stop and hear everything,” she 
exclaimed rebelliously. 

“The time is not ripe for you to hear everything. 
As yet I know very little, and wish to consult Alan 
about arriving at the truth. He can tell you all you 
wish to know later.” 

“Go, dear,” said Fuller in a low voice, and lead- 
ing the girl to the door, “I can act for us both.” 

Marie pouted and tossed her pretty head. “You 
are horrid,” she murmured. “I do want to know all 
about the peacock.” 

“You shall know if anything is to be discovered 
about it.” 

“Very well,” she said obediently, “but I think 
you’re horrid all the same.” 

When she left the library and the door was closed, 
Sorley, who had removed his overcoat and gloves 
and cap, sank into a chair with a sigh. He was 
evidently tired out by his ride to Lewes and back 
again. Alan waited for him to open the conversa- 
tion, for having his suspicions of the man, particu- 
larly after his hesitation when Marie had men- 
tioned the peacock, it behooved him to be cautious. 
Sorley thought for a few moments with his eyes 
on Fuller’s face then spoke abruptly. 

“You know that Miss Grison hates me, and 
why?” he demanded shortly. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘‘Yes. She accuses you of having ruined her 
brother by having dismissed him wrongfully.” 

“Quite so, and acts like a mad woman in conse- 
quence. As if I could help the man going to the 
bad. I gave him every chance, and instead of prose- 
cuting him for forging that check I let him go free. 
I don’t see that I could have behaved better. That 
he sank to the Rotherhithe slum was purely his own 
fault.” 

“Miss Grison doesn’t think so.” 

“She can think what she chooses,” retorted Sor- 
ley, coolly. “I need take no notice of the vagaries of 
a crazy creature such as she surely is.” He paused, 
and looked oddly at his companion. “Do you know, 
why I dismissed her brother, Alan?” 

“You have just explained; because of the forged 
check.” 

“That is not tfie exact cause. I could have over- 
looked that, since I really was sorry for the poor 
wretch, even though he was rude to my sister, and a 
decided nuisance in this house with his drunken 
habits and use of opium. My real reason for dis- 
missing him was that Miss Grison — Louisa as we 
used to call her — stole the peacock of jewels.” 

“Oh,” said Fuller with a non-committal air, for he 
wished to know more about the theft before stating 
that Miss Grison had confessed to it. And even 
when he knew all he was not sure if he would be 
thus frank. 

“Yes! she knew how I valued it, both because of 
its workmanship and the gems set in its golden 
body, and because it is the clue to a large treasure 
which was hidden — ^you know the story — by Simon 
Ferrier. I told her that if she did not return it I 
would dismiss her brother on account of the forged 
check. She refused and I did dismiss him, so she 


128 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


really has only herself to thank for Baldwin’s down- 
fall, although, like a woman, she blames me in the 
silly way she does.” 

“But if she took the peacock why didn’t you have 
her arrested ?” 

‘‘I should have done so, but that she declared her 
intention of destroying the ornament should I act 
in such a way. She said that she would drop it into 
the Thames — she was in London when I found out 
about her theft — or would melt it in fire. As the 
peacock is the sole clue to the hiding-place of the 
Begum’s gems, you may guess that with such a 
desperate woman I did not dare to act so drastically 
as she deserved.” 

“I suppose she gave the peacock to her brother,” 
suggested Alan artfully, hoping that Sorley would 
commit himself by confessing the knowledge that 
Grison held the ornament at the time of his death. 
But the man did nothing of the sort. 

“No, she didn’t,” he said sharply, “so far as I 
know she had it in her possession all these twenty 
years. I went again and again to see her and try 
for its recovery, but insisting that I had ruined her 
brother, she refused to surrender it, and lest she 
should destroy it, I could not use the force of the 
law. Now I am certain that he had it all the 
time.” 

“Why are you certain?” asked Fuller, who was 
impressed by the frank way in which the man spoke. 
He certainly did not seem to have anything to con- 
ceal, and the solicitor wondered whether he had 
misjudged him. 

Mr. Sorley waved his hand. “One moment,” he 
said slowly, “you may wonder why I am telling you 
all this, and why I have brought you into the matter ? 
I do so, because you tell me that you are good at 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


129 


solving riddles, and also since you are in love with 
Marie you are bound to protect her interests. The 
jewels belong to her, so I am anxious that you 
should help me to find them, so that Marie may get 
the benefit of their sale. As she will have this 
house, her own income, and my collection of gems 
when I die, I do not think I am asking too much in 
requesting a share of the treasure, especially when 
that also will go to my niece after my death.'' 

Alan nodded, since all this was reasonable enough. 
^T know why you want me to help,” he remarked, 
‘‘but without the peacock we can do nothing.” 

Mr. Sorley rose and went to an alcove of the 
room in which was set a tall carved cupboard of 
black oak. Opening this he took out an object 
wrapped in chamois leather, and returned to the 
writing-table to display to his visitor’s astonished 
eyes, the missing peacock of jewels. “On that day 
when Miss Grison called me names, and by her own 
confession wandered over the house uninvited,” 
said the man quietly, “she must have brought this 
back. The day after she departed I found the pea- 
cock in yonder cupboard, a place where I frequently 
go, as Miss Grison knew. Why she should restore 
it in this stealthy way, or restore it at all, I am not 
able to say. But I know that she took it from here 
twenty years ago — from that cupboard in fact, 
where it was always kept — and her unasked- for visit 
to this house must have been to replace it.” 

Alan stared at the glittering bird which was — as 
Latimer had stated — the size of a thrush, and great- 
ly admired its beauty and perfection of workman- 
ship. Ferrier assuredly had learned a great deal in 
the East, for the shape and feathers of the bird were 
truly wonderfully created in delicate lines. The 
eyes were rubies, and there was a tuft of emeralds 


130 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


on the head but comparatively few stones studded 
the body, as all were reserved for the glory of the 
tail. This was outspread like a large fan — and in 
it were set sapphires, opals, rubies, and many other 
precious stones which scintillated a glory like a rain- 
bow, especially when Sorley moved the gems to and 
fro in the thread of sunlight which pierced the 
dusky atmosphere of the room. But what the young 
man thought, while he stared at the lovely object, 
was whether Sorley was guilty or innocent. The 
presence of the ornament which had been in the pos- 
session of the dead man hinted the former, but 
Sorley’s explanation — feasible enough on the basis 
of Miss Orison’s abrupt visit — seemed to declare 
the latter. As no man is considered guilty in Eng- 
lish law until his criminality is proved, and as Alan 
was a solicitor, he gave Sorley the benefit of the 
doubt until such time as he had more trustworthy 
evidence to go upon. Having taken up this attitude 
he treated the man as innocent, and asked questions 
about the peacock. It was necessary to do so, if 
the riddle was to be solved. 

''And, so far as I can see,” said Fuller, following 
his train of thought, "there is no secret writing to 
be seen.” 

"There is no secret writing,” said Sorley unex- 
pectedly. 

"But I thought you wished me to solve a crypto- 
gram.” 

"So I do; but a cryptogram can be other than in 
letters or figures.” 

Fuller gazed at the peacock. "I can’t under- 
stand,” he said bewildered. 

"Well, Alan,” rejoined Fuller with a shrug, "I 
can’t myself, and so have brought you into the 
business on the assumption that two heads are bet- 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


131 


ter than one. I have even opened the peacock to 
find its secret, but there is nothing inside. In my 
opinion the secret is hidden in the tail.” 

Alan was still puzzled. ‘In the tail?” he echoed. 

“In the jewels somehow,” explained Mr. Sorley 
meditatively. “You see there are three semicircles 
of gems on the tail, and between the second and the 
third appears a triangle of rubies. Now if we can 
read the meaning of the three rows of precious 
stones, they may explain the triangle, which is 
probably the key to the whole mystery.” 

“I still can’t understand. Why should the mys- 
tery be concealed in the jewels of the tail? They 
may be merely for decorative purposes.” 

“I don’t think so. Of course the gems may imi- 
tate the peacock’s tail from nature, but you never 
saw a bird with a triangle marked in this way.” 

“No,” Alan nodded. “You are right so far. 
Have you any further ideas ?” 

“Not one. The riddle is to be read on the tail, 
and by means of the precious stones, but how, I 
can’t say. What’s your opinion, Alan?” 

“I have none,” said the young man hopelessly. 
“I shall have to turn over the matter in my own 
mind, and then shall let you know.” 

Mr. Sorley carefully locked up the peacock in the 
cupboard and shrugged his shoulders. “I have 
thought over the problem for years, and I am no 
nearer the solution than ever I was. But if you 
solve it, you shall marry my niece.” 

“With such a prize in view I cannot fail,” said 
Fuller hopefully. All the same the outlook re- 
garding the reading of the riddle was very doubt- 
ful. 


CHAPTER IX 


ANOTHER TRAIL 

Alan Fuller left The Monastery in a very per- 
plexed state of mind, as may be guessed, for the 
revelations made by Mr. Sorley startled him con- 
siderably. On the hints given by Miss Grison he 
had suspected that the man knew something about 
the Rotherhithe crime, and now the production of 
the golden peacock seemed to endorse his suspicions. 
According to Jotty — who could not have manu- 
factured such a story — the deceased had been in 
possession of the ornament shortly before his death. 
Miss Grison also had stated that the same had been 
given by her to the man, although she admitted 
having stolen it from the great house. How then 
did it pass into Mr. Sorley’s hands unless that 
gentleman had committed the crime ? Certainly his 
explanation, or rather his belief, that Miss Grison 
had restored the peacock to the cupboard when she 
paid her unexpected visit appeared to be feasible, 
but before Fuller could entirely believe this, it was 
necessary that Sorley's suggestion should be sup- 
ported by the woman’s acknowledgment. And it 
must be mentioned as a point in the man’s favor 
that he did not say positively Miss Grison had 
brought back the ornament on that occasion, but 
only gave out the idea to account for his own pro- 
duction of the article. 

‘"And,” considered Alan, while plodding home- 
ward, “Sorley is not aware that it is known to 
Moon, Jotty, Dick, and me that the crime on the 
face of it was committed for the sake of the pea- 
132 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 133 


cock. Had he known as much, he might have 
accounted for its coming into his possession by say- 
ing that Miss Grison had brought it back. But 
since he is ignorant, I don’t see the use of his mak- 
ing such an excuse. He could easily have said that 
the ornament had been mislaid, and that he had 
found it by chance. Or indeed that Miss Grison 
had hidden the thing when she stole it in some 
room, without troubling to remove it from the 
place. Sorley’s explanation certainly seems to point 
to his complete innocence.” 

But then again, as the young man considered 
later, Sorley had, within the last few months, pur- 
chased a motor bicycle, and had told an obvious 
falsehood as to the time of possession. On such a 
machine he could easily cover the fifty miles be- 
tween London and Belstone twice over in a night 
by hard riding, and thus might have been in town 
about the time when the crime was committed with- 
out anyone being the wiser. The ownership of the 
motor bicycle assuredly hinted that the man had 
acted in this way, and if so, the chances were that 
he had murdered Grison to recover the peacock. 
But in that case, he would hardly venture to show 
his spoil so openly, knowing at what cost he had 
obtained it, even though unaware that the police 
knew how the dead man had been slain on account 
of the ornament. Certainly he desired Fuller’s 
assistance to unravel the problem connected with 
the golden bird, but then — as Alan thought — he 
could have produced a drawing of the article, say- 
ing that it had been made by himself or someone 
else before Miss Grison had stolen the fetish of the 
Inderwicks. In a correct picture drawn to scale 
and colored, there would be quite enough to go upon 
to guess the riddle since the mystery of the peacock 


134 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


was evidently on the surface, and not connected 
with the interior of the body. Sorley — as he stated, 
had opened that to find nothing; and, wanting Ful- 
ler to help him, he assuredly must have spoken the 
entire truth. 

While Alan was thus turning matters over in his 
bewildered mind, he heard his name called, and 
looked round to see Marie flying over the snowy 
ground. She caught up with him breathless and 
crimson with the race, to seize his arm with a 
reproachful expression. 

“You are mean,” she cried, recovering her breath, 
“IVe been waiting for you to come out and tell me 
what Uncle Ran said to you. But you left without 
a word. I saw you passing down the avenue, so 
followed as hard as I was able. Why do you 
act in this horrid, secret way, you disagreeable 
thing?” 

Fuller halted and looked at her doubtfully. Since 
he had imparted to the girl that knowledge regard- 
ing Orison’s possession of the peacock, which he 
had obtained from Inspector Moon, through Lati- 
mer, he certainly did not intend to reveal that Sor- 
ley had displayed the ornament in the library. 
Should he do so, Marie would at once, on what she 
knew, jump to the conclusion — and very naturally 
— that her uncle was guilty. Being of an emotional 
nature she would probably refuse to remain in the 
house with the man, in which case the truth would 
have to be told. If it were, and Sorley learned that 
he was suspected, he would probably place obstacles 
in the way of what really happened coming to light. 
That is, assuming he really was the criminal, a fact 
of which Alan, after thinking over things was by 
no means certain. And if the man was innocent, 
he might make an outcry to clear himself, which 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


135 


would be equally prejudicial to the solution of the 
problem. The more secretly all operations were 
conducted until positive knowledge was forth- 
coming, the better it would be for the cause of 
justice. And in this case, justice consisted in 
bringing the assassin of Baldwin Grison to the 
gallows. 

said Alan lightly, and smiling at her in- 
quiring look, *^your uncle only asked me to assist 
him to learn the riddle of the peacock.’’ 

‘‘But how can that be done when the peacock is 
missing?” 

“Your uncle had drawings of the bird,” replied 
the young man evasively. 

“I have never seen them,” declared Marie rather 
crossly, “and as the peacock belongs to me, I should 
see them.” 

“I will show them to you in a few days,” an- 
swered Alan quickly, and made a mental resolve to 
prepare the drawings himself. And indeed it was 
necessary that he should have them, since he could 
not take the actual bird to town, and required some- 
thing tangible upon which to work. “Don’t you 
bother your uncle about the matter, Marie, or he 
may withdraw his permission.” 

“What permission?” 

“That I should become engaged to you.” 

“Oh Alan ! oh Alan ! oh Alan !” Marie could only 
gasp and blush. 

“That is,” said Fuller correcting himself, “he 
does not directly sanction an official engagement. 
But he says that if I solve the problem and find 
the jewels that he will agree to our marriage. 
Meanwhile we can be together as often as we 
like.” 

“That is as good as an engagement,” cried Marie, 


136 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


clapping her hands with delight, ^'how good of 
Uncle Ran. I love him for this.” 

‘‘Don’t tell him so,” interposed Fuller hastily; 
“he’s an odd fish, and if he knows that I have told 
you of his yielding so far, he may change his mind, 
my dear.” 

Marie nodded very wisely and solemnly. “I see ; 
I quite understand. I shall say nothing to Uncle 
Ran.” 

“And ask no questions ?” 

“Not one. But you will tell me ever3d;hing, won’t 
you?” she said, pressing up to his side in a coaxing 
manner. 

“Of course,” Alan assured her, “whatever dis- 
coveries I make regarding the riddle you shall 
know,” and the girl was satisfied with this, not 
guessing that her lover was withholding informa- 
tion connected with the more serious matter of the 
Rotherhithe murder. 

Having — as she now presumed — full permis- 
sion from Sorley to display her preference for Alan, 
Marie boldly took his arm and walked through the 
village with him in a most open manner. There 
was no chance now that her Uncle Ran would 
appear to make trouble, and the girl declared as she 
clung to her lover that all their troubles were over. 
“For of course, such a very clever boy such as you 
are, dear, will easily solve the riddle.” 

“I hope,” replied Fuller doubtfully, “but it is 
a hard riddle, Marie, and has baffied everyone for 
over one hundred years.” 

“Well,” said Miss Inderwick, arguing from a 
feminine standpoint, “if anyone had guessed the 
riddle the jewels would have been sold by this time, 
and probably the money would have been spent. 
So it is just as well that the truth has not become 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


137 


known. You will guess the riddle, dear, clever boy 
that you are, and then we shall become very, very 
rich, even though the half of what you find goes to 
Uncle Ran.” 

“Nothing shall go to Uncle Ran,” said Alan 
grimly, “because Uncle Ran has no right to ask for 
a share — unless, of course, he solves the riddle. 

The peacock and the treasure it can point out, 
Marie, both belong to you, so don’t go making 
hasty promises to Mr. Sorley; and above all, dear 
— mark what I say, little featherhead — don’t sign 
any paper if he asks you to.” 

Marie nodded meditatively. “I understand what 
you mean, Alan. Of course Uncle Ran is fond of 
jewels, and — well then I shall sign nothing without 
consulting you, dear.” 

“And don’t tell him that I advised this.” 

“Of course not; he would take a dislike to you 
if I did. Don’t worry, Alan darling, for I know 
exactly how to behave.” 

“Behave just as you have done, Marie, and do 
not let Mr. Sorley believe that anything new is 
afoot, or that there is any understanding between 
us.” 

Miss Inderwick nodded vigorously to imply that 
she knew what she was about, and the two walked 
on for some distance in silence, over the cobblestone 
pavement of Belstone main street. Occasional 
smiles and looks of approval were cast at the young 
couple by stray villagers, for Alan was a great 
favorite in his father’s parish, and Marie was much 
more popular than her uncle. The inhabitants of 
Belstone believed that if Marie became Mrs. Alan 
Fuller, that the old day of plenty would return to 
The Monastery in which all would share, for they 
credited the young man with brains which would 


138 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


enable him to make a great deal of money. And 
if he did, seeing that he had a generous nature, it 
was just as well that he should marry the last de- 
scendant of the ancient family who had ruled the 
neighborhood. All public sympathy was on the 
side of the lovers. 

But to this Marie and Alan paid no attention, 
since they were wrapped up in one another. The 
girl felt quite happy in Fuller’s company and 
occasionally glanced at his meditative face. Alan 
appeared to be thinking deeply, and apparently of 
something not connected with herself. With the 
natural jealousy of a woman in love, Marie could 
not permit this. 

''What are you thinking about, dear ?” she asked 
suspiciously. 

"About Morad-Bakche!” 

Miss Inderwick opened her eyes on hearing this 
strange name. "Who is he?” 

"He is an Indian gentleman, dear, whom I met 
at Miss Orison’s.” 

"Why should you think about him just now when 
I am here, Alan?” 

Fuller answered the first part of the question, and 
passed over the latter. "I am wondering if he has 
anything to do with the peacock?” 

This remark put an end to Marie’s egotism for 
the time being. "Why should he have anything to 
do with it?” she demanded, astonished. 

"Well,” exclaimed the young man quietly, "he 
has come to England, so he told me to search for 
some mislaid family property. He is descended 
from that Rajah of Kam m whom George Inder- 
wick was sent by the H.E.I.C., my dear.” 

Marie, having read and re-read the story of Fer- 
rier grasped the connection at once. "Then he 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 139 


knows about the peacock?” she cried in dismay. 

‘That is what I wish to learn. The Begum of 
Kam certainly gave the jewels we are looking for 
to George Inderwick, from whom they descend to 
you, so as Morad-Bakche represents the Kam fam- 
ily it is just possible that he has come to get back 
the gems if he can.” 

“He sha’n’t have them,” cried Marie, becoming 
flushed, “don’t let him take them, Alan.” 

Fuller laughed. “We have to find them first,” 
he remarked coolly. “When we have them in our 
possession, then we can talk over Morad-Bakche’s 
claim.” 

“He sha’n’t have them,” murmured Marie, much 
disturbed ; “they are mine. And after all, Alan, he 
may not have come for the Begum’s treasure.” 

“He may, or he may not. I am unprepared to 
give an opinion. Only it is so strange that he should 
live at Miss Grison’s boarding-house, considering 
that she knows about the peacock, which is to reveal 
the whereabouts of what the man probably desires. 
He didn’t get to that boarding-house by chance, I 
am certain. And Dick fancies also — by his sixth 
sense, as he declares — that Morad-Bakche may have 
designs on the treasure.” 

“It is very strange,” said Miss Inderwick, pon- 
dering over this speech ; “but how could he find out 
that Miss Grison knew about the peacock?” 

“We must learn. Have you ever seen an Indian 
gentleman in the village, my dear, or haunting The 
Monastery?” 

“No. If I had I should have told you, or would 
have written about it. ♦We see so few people about 
here, Alan — strangers that is — that anyone new is 
quickly noticed.” 

“Well, you may not have seen the man, but others 


140 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


may have. Who is the greatest gossip in the village ?” 

'‘Oh, Alan, as if you didn’t know, when your 
mother is always talking about her. It’s Mrs. Ver- 
win, of course.” 

"Ah yes! and she keeps The Red Fox, our one 
and only inn. Marie, she is the very person to 
know, for besides being a gossip, she is the landlady 
of an inn to which a stranger would go even if he 
only came for the day. Come and let us interview 
Mrs. Verwin.” 

Marie assented eagerly, for the search was like a 
game, and interested her greatly. The pair simply 
retraced their steps and entered the green space in 
the centre of Belstone, whence streets and lanes 
diverged, to behold the shabby old inn facing them 
directly. It was an ancient Georgian building, ugly 
without, and comfortable within, and had been more 
notable in the day of stage-coaches than it was now. 
Its walls sadly needed a coat of paint, its roof 
required patching, while both doors and windows 
would have been the better for a little attention. In 
fact, there was a half-hearted look about The Red 
Fox, which showed that the good lady who owned 
it had given up any idea of making her fortune, and 
was content to exist for the day without troubling 
about the morrow. Sometimes tourists stayed in 
the old place, more frequently artists, attracted by 
the romantic beauties of The Monastery, for the 
shabby rooms were fairly comfortable, and the 
cooking, within limits, was tolerably good. Mrs. 
Verwin’s money mostly came from the pockets of 
laborers and yokels, who drank the very inferior 
beer she supplied while they talked over the news 
of the countryside in the smoky taproom with the 
sawdust floor, and cumbersome settles. In the 
evening when the day’s work was ended, that tap- 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


141 


room was the meeting-place of gossips both male 
and female. 

And Mrs. Verwin was the greatest and most 
famous gossip of the lot. How she gathered all 
the news she did was a mystery to everyone, since 
she never left her abode, and worked from morning 
until night in order to keep things going. But 
somehow she managed to hear all that was going 
on both near and far, and used her long tongue 
freely in discussing what she heard. But that the 
villagers were so somnolent Mrs. Verwin would 
many and many a time have been in danger of a 
libel action, but reigning as a kind of rural queen, 
no one was bold enough to bring her to book. If 
anyone had dared to venture on such a course, he 
or she would have been excluded for ever from the 
taproom, and such excommunication was not to be 
thought of by anyone who desired to see life. And 
life was nowhere to be seen in Belstone save under 
the noisy roof of The Red Fox. 

Mrs. Verwin herself welcomed the young couple 
the moment they set foot on the threshold, as she 
had already espied them from the window. Being 
a very stout woman, she could scarcely curtsey, but 
did her best, and invited her visitors into the best 
parlor. It was a great honor that the vicar’s son 
and the leading lady of the neighborhood — for 
that Marie was by virtue of descent if not of money 
— and Mrs. Verwin was quite overwhelmed. As 
the inn was quite respectable and well-conducted, 
Alan had no hesitation in taking Marie into the 
place, although Mrs. Fuller would scarcely have 
been pleased, because she disliked the landlady’s too 
ready tongue. But as that lively, black-eyed dame 
was a good churchwoman and really kind-hearted, 
the vicar had a better opinion of her. 


142 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘"Lor’ sir and miss,” cried Mrs. Verwin, ener- 
getically dusting a chair for Marie to sit down on. 
“Who’d ha’ thought of you an’ Mr. Alan coming to 
see me, friendly like. And very well you’re looking 
miss, though Mr. Alan there could do with a little 
red in them pale cheeks of his. London smoke,” 
added Mrs. Verwin in disgust, ‘‘and London 
food, and the milk that blue with watering as the 
sky is gray to it. Now do have a cup of tea, sir, 
and ” 

“No, thank you, Mrs. Verwin,” interrupted Alan 
quickly, for there was no chance of getting a word 
in edgeways save by cutting short the good lady’s 
voluble speech; “we have only come for five min- 
utes. I want to ask you a question, if you don’t 
mind.” 

“Mind, Mr. Alan, and why should I mind, me 
being all straight and above the sky-line, respectable 
as my parents were before me, as anyone who can 
read is able to see on their tombstones in the right- 
hand corner of the churchyard looking from the 
porch. Ask me what you like, sir, whether it means 
weddings or funerals, or all that goes between 
in ” 

“I simply wish to know if during the last year 
you have seen an Indian gentleman in the village.” 
interrupted Fuller again, and with a look at Marie 
to show that he desired to conduct the conversa- 
tion himself. 

“Well, I never, and to think as you didn’t hear 
of him, stopping here as he was in July last for one 
night, and saying as the rice he ate was boiled in 
a way he admired.” 

“Oh, so there was an Indian here?” 

Mrs. Verwin nodded and placed her stout arms 
akimbo, with curiosity in her snapping black eyes. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


143 


‘‘Quite the gentleman he was, though I hope there’s 
nothing wrong with him, meaning courts and docks 
and lawyers, as is all the sons of Old Nick, asking 
your pardon, Mr. Alan, for saying so, and yours, 
miss, for talking about him, as shouldn’t be spoke 
of, nohow. Now if ” 

“There’s nothing wrong about him,” said Alan, 
again stopping the flow of the landlady’s conver- 
sation, or rather monologue; “but I happened to 
meet him at Miss Orison’s boarding-house in Lon- 
don and ” 

“Lor’ sir,” said Mrs. Verwin again, and taking 
her turn to interrupt, “may I never speak another 
word, if she don’t owe me a good turn for having 
told him to go there, where he’d be comfortable, 
though I never could see as Miss Orison, and Lou- 
isa’s her name, was much of a housekeeper.” 

“You told Mr. Bakche to go,” said Alan, remem- 
bering how the Indian had mentioned to Miss 
Orison that someone in Ceylon had sent him to 
Thimble Square, “and why?” 

“Batch. Yes sir. Batch was the name, and he 
was a very dark gentleman with eyes like gimblets 
for boring a person through and through, haughty 
like and grand in his manners, speaking English 
like a native in spite of his having been reared in 
a country where they chatter French and Oerman, 
the last a language I never could abide, since a 
waiter of that sort went away when the house was 
full, and I needed all the hands I’d got besides a 
few more. Oh, Mr. Batch was a gent sure enough, 
though a son of Ham as we are told in the Bible, 
your pa, Mr. Alan, having read about them children 
of Noah only three Sundays back, and then he ” 

“Why did you send Mr. Bakche to Miss Gri- 
son’s?” asked Alan impatiently. 


144 the peacock OF JEWELS 


‘Well, I didn’t in a way, sir, because it was the 
peacock as sent him to ” 

“The peacock,” repeated Marie, and looked at 
Alan anxiously. 

“And well do you know all about it, miss,” cried 
the voluble Mrs. Verwin, turning to face the speak- 
er, “it being the luck of your family as will never 
have no fortune till it’s brought back again. And 
that Grison person as was your uncle’s clerk took 
it over twenty years back, as I’m a living woman, 
which we all said when we heard as he was gone 
and it was missing. I said and others said as Mr. 
Sorley should have persecuted ” 

“Did you tell all this to Mr. Bakche?” questioned 
Fuller quickly. 

‘And why shouldn’t I tell him, Mr. Alan?” in- 
quired Mrs. Verwin, wiping her heated face with 
a corner of her apron and bridling. “He asked if 
there wasn’t people called Inderwick hereabouts, 
and I up and told him all about the family. Mr. 
Batch says, as his father knew some of ’em in his 
own land, and said as how him he met — not men- 
tioning names, though it was an Inderwick as spoke, 
and perhaps, miss, a cousin of your very own — 
well, him as he met mentioned a peacock. So I 
tells Mr. Batch all about the story of the peacock 
being the luck of the family, as all the countryside 
knows, and says as how we believed that Grison 
person had took it. He said he’d like to ask him 
or her about the peacock — meaning them Grisons 
— since he liked to hear them sort of stories, so I 
recommended her house to him as being comfort- 
able, and heaven forgive me for the lie, seeing Miss 
Grison — and Louisa’s her name — ain’t got no more 
idea of cooking than a cat.” 

“Oh, Mr. Bakche is very comfortable there,” said 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


145 ’ 


Alan easily, and very glad that he had learned so 
much ; “did Mr. Bakche say nothing about any 
treasure connected with the peacock?” 

“No,” cried Mrs. Verwin, her face alive with 
curiosity, “never a word did he mention of a 
treasure, and where ” 

Fuller saw that he had made a mistake in hinting 
a thing which was known only to the Inderwicks 
to this gossip, and hastened to repair his error. “I 
am talking of the peacock itself, which is a treasure,” 
he said quickly, “for it is made of gold with precious 
stones ” 

“I know, Mr. Alan, of course I know, sir, for 
didn’t I see it on my wedding-day forty years ago, 
when your dear ma, miss, was alive and well along 
with your late pa. My husband — poor Verwin as is 
dead and gone — said as he give me a wedding treat, 
and he takes me to see The Monastery and asked 
Squire Inderwick to show that blessed peacock. 
Oh,” Mrs. Verwin raised her fat hands and closed 
her eyes in ecstasy, “well may you call it a treasure, 
Mr. Alan, for such glitter I never did see. It was 
like the New Jerusalem for shine and ” 

“Well that is the treasure I meant, Mrs. Verwin.” 

“And you never spoke a truer word, Mr. Alan. 
But I hope sir, and you, miss, as I didn’t do wrong 
in telling Mr. Batch — and a pleasant gentleman, 
though dark, he was too — about the peacock, for it’s 
a story as we all know for years and years and 
years. The luck of the Inderwicks! Why I heard 
my dear, dear pa as is dead these fifty years tell 
all about the blessed idol, so I thought t’was no 
harm to let Mr. Batch know as we’d something in 
Belstone he hadn’t got in his own country, wherever 
that may be, though they do say as it’s across 
channel somehow, and, if he ” 


146 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


“You didn’t do wrong, Mrs. Verwin,” said Alan, 
striking in hastily, as he was anxious to get away 
with Marie, “and I merely asked about Mr. Bakche 
because he seemed to know something of Belstone.” 

“He know. Now I ask you, sir, what can he 
know, staying but for one day, and only giving an 
eyewink at The Monastery where he ” 

“Oh, he went there, did he?” asked Fuller, turn- 
ing back at the door. 

“Yes sir, he did, saying he’d like to see such a 
lovely place about which I’d told him such a queer 
story, for queer he said was the name for the luck of 
the peacock. I think Mr. Batch was one of them 
gents who write and who ask others for things as 
they can’t think of themselves, to ” 

“Yes! Yes. Very probably, Mrs. Verwin. 
Thanks for answering my questions. I just did so 
because I chanced to meet this gentleman at Miss 
Orison’s.” 

Alan, and Marie, who had taken scarcely any part 
in the conversation, managed to get outside the door, 
but were followed into the open by Mrs. Verwiny 
talking all the time, and curtseying at intervals with 
difficulty as she said good-bye. “For I do hope 
miss, and Mr. Alan, sir, as you’ll come in again, you 
not forgetting, miss, as I was kitchen-maid at The 
Monastery before Verwin came along to make me 
a happy bride; and so have the interest of the 
family at heart. Sitting on a throne is where you 
should be, miss, with all under your pretty feet as 
you will be when the peacock comes again to its 
own. And if that Grison person is dead, murdered 
they say with much blood, and serve him right, I 
hope as he’s sent back the peacock by post, if his 
sister — Louisa’s her name — ain’t got it, which is just 
as likely as not, taking into Well good-day, sir 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 147 


— good-day, miss — and bless you both for a nice- 
looking couple,” and Mrs. Verwin’s voice arose to a 
perfect scream, as the distance between her and the 
visitors increased. Not until they were on the verge 
of the green entering the lane which led to the vic- 
arage, did the sound of her adieux die away. 

‘‘Marie,” said Alan seriously ,“if you ever talk so 
much, I shall divorce you at once. Poor Verwin. 
He must have been glad to leave the world.” 

“She always makes my head ache,” said Marie 
laughing. 

“And other people’s hearts ache, owing to her 
gossip. However, she can’t make any mischief about 
what we have been talking, since I explained exactly 
what I meant So Bakche came down here to ask 
after the peacock. That shows, as I thought long 
ago, that he is after the Begum’s gems.” 

“What will you do, Alan?” asked Marie anx- 
iously. 

“Consult Dick, and tell him what I have found 
out Meanwhile Marie, you need not tell your 
uncle what we have discovered.” 

“Mrs. Verwin will probably do that,” said Marie 
darkly. 

“Alan frowned. “We can’t stop her tongue, 
worse luck,” he said with a sigh. 


CHAPTER X 


MR. SORLEY^S JEWELS 

There was no doubt that the evidence of the village 
gossip would be valuable in connection with the 
Rotherhithe crime, since it showed that another 
person besides Mr. Sorley desired to obtain posses- 
sion of the peacock of jewels. From oral tradition 
or perhaps from some family paper, it was apparent 
that Morad-Bakche had learned how his great great 
grandmother, or whatever the relationship might be, 
had presented the gems to George Inderwick. Also 
the mere fact that he had sought to learn the history 
of the fetish from Mrs. Verwin indicated that he 
knew in some way, not yet to be explained, how the 
golden bird could reveal the hiding-place of the 
treasure. That he had met with a cousin of Marie’s 
in India, as he had told the landlady to account for 
his knowledge of the peacock, was merely an excuse, 
as no relative of the Inderwick family was in India 
at the present time. But of course only Bakche 
himself could explain how he had managed to trace 
the fetish which had to do with the family treasure 
of his ancestors, and he might do so when he called 
on Fuller, which the young man quite expected him 
to do. 

‘‘Mrs. Verwin,” thought Alan, as he retired to bed, 
“undoubtedly must have told him that I was paying 
attentions to Marie, so that was why Bakche behaved 
so amiably to me at the boarding-house. Dick was 
right after all, for the man is seeking for the gems, 
and his politeness to me had something to do with 
his hope of getting them. He is certain to look me 
up again, and if I pretend to know nothing, he will 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


have to speak out himself if he desires my assistance. 
But then there’s Sorley ” 

It was at this point that the young man’s senses 
became confused, and he fell asleep. But next 
morning he determined to see Marie’s uncle, and ask 
if he had seen Bakche in the village or haunting the 
grounds of The Monastery. Of course the Indian 
was working secretly to regain what his people had 
lost; all the same he might have gone boldly to 
Sorley, and sought to learn if that gentleman knew 
details of the gems and their whereabouts. Alan 
remembered vaguely that Sorley had talked of the 
possibility of his being murdered, and although the 
man insisted that the chance had to do with his own 
private collection of jewels, yet it was not improbable 
that Bakche had threatened him. The Indian was 
not the man to stick at murder if he wished to gain 
his ends, and Alan wondered if he had killed Bald- 
win Grison in order to get the peacock. But this 
supposition he dismissed as ridiculous, since had 
Bakche secured the plunder he assuredly would not 
have sent it to Mr. Sorley. However the sole chance 
of learning more or less of the truth lay in question- 
ing both men. Alan began with Sorley. 

Also he wished to make a drawing of the peacock, 
so as to have before his eyes an exact representation 
of the bird. Alan had a fair idea of art, and had at 
one time amused himself with sketching, but not be- 
ing particularly successful had abandoned his hobby. 
However, he possesed sufficient technical skill to 
draw the bird and color the drawing, so looked out 
his japanned tin paint-box and took it in his pocket 
to The Monastery. This was a couple of days before 
he returned to town, and at the beginning of the 
New Year. Luckily on this occasion Marie had 
gone to see a schoolgirl friend at Brighton, so Fuller 


150 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 

was glad that she would not be at home to interrupt 
his interview with Mr. Sorley. She asked too many 
questions, and having regard to her uncle’s very 
peculiar position, Alan found a difficulty in answer- 
ing them. Finally although he intended to show 
her the sketch of the peacock, he did not desire her 
to see him preparing it, since that would have given 
the lie to his assertion that Sorley already possessed 
such a drawing, and moreover might reveal that the 
peacock itself had returned to its old home. There- 
fore Fuller entered the big house feeling thankful 
that Marie was out of the way for a few hours. 
Being very much in love with her he had never 
expected to have such a feeling, and felt rather 
ashamed of himself in consequence. But as he 
knew that he was acting straightforwardly under 
particularly difficult circumstances he cheered up and 
saluted his host with a smile. Henny Trent with a grin 
on her Dutch doll face had introduced him into the 
library, and here Mr. Sorley was writing letters. 

“How are you, Alan,” he said, rising to greet his 
visitor, and looking as spick and span as though he 
had just stepped out of a bandbox. “I thought you 
had returned to your duties in Chancery Lane?” 

“I go back the day after to-morrow,” replied the 
solicitor, shaking hands, and wondering if he was 
doing so with a man who ought to be in the New 
Bailey dock; “I came to say good-bye and to ask 
you to allow me to make a drawing of the peacock.” 

“For what reason?” questioned Sorley sus- 
piciously and uneasily. 

“My reason is very apparent, sir. The riddle is to 
be read on the exterior of the peacock, you say?” 

“I think so, since I have opened the bird and 
found nothing inside it.” 

“Then I must have a representation of the article 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 15 1 


before my eyes in order that I may ponder over the 
signs.” 

“What signs?” 

“There you have me,” answered Fuller frankly; 
“so far as I can see there are no signs of hiero- 
glyphics or writing on the bird, so I don’t see that 
it can in any way indicate the hiding-place of the 
Begum’s gems. But if I have a picture and examine 
everything about it carefully, I may hit on the 
solution.” 

“You don’t appear to be very certain of success,” 
said Mr. Sorley dryly, “yet you told me that you 
were an adept at solving cryptograms.” 

“If they consist of signs,” Alan explained cau- 
tiously, “and I can see no signs on the peacock. 
Well sir, will you let me draw it?” 

“Certainly,, since I wish you to work with me in 
the endeavor to learn where Ferrier concealed the 
treasure. But I don’t want you to show the drawing 
all over the place, lest someone else should guess the 
secret.” 

“Oh, I shall be careful,” said Fuller cheerfully, 
but making a mental reservation that Dick Latimer 
should see the sketch. 

Satisfied with his promise,. Sorley took the golden 
peacock from the cupboard of black oak, and un- 
wrapped the chamois leather covering to display it 
on the table. But before doing so he locked the 
library door without apologizing, an action which 
seemed highly suspicious to his visitor. But if 
cautious with others who were in the house, Sorley 
was certainly very frank in his dealings with Alan, 
and although the young man could not bring himself 
to* entirely trust his host, he admitted privately that 
the man did not act in a way which suggested terror 
of the law. And if he had murdered Grison to gain 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


possession of the fetish, he assuredly would be more 
cautious in showing it to a lawyer. But Fuller 
never could make up his mind as to Sorley’s inno- 
cence or guilt, and wavered between belief and dis- 
belief in a way which annoyed himself. But there 
was nothing else to be done until more evidence was 
forthcoming. 

The young man looked searchingly at the beautiful 
specimen of goldsmith’s work which glittered on the 
table. Ferrier knew his trade thoroughly, and pro- 
bably had acquired some skill when in India. The 
feathers, the form, and the head of the bird were 
perfectly done, and in a minute, delicate manner, 
which showed how painstaking its creator had been. 
The tiny emeralds on the head-tuft trembled on 
golden wires like the filaments of flowers, and the 
ruby eyes were set admirably in their sockets. The 
breast shone with few gems, but the body of the bird 
was of feathered gold, and the artist seemed to have 
reserved the full blaze of beauty for the outspread 
tail. Yet there were fewer jewels in this than might 
have been expected, for in the three curved rows 
which followed the semicircular outline of the tail, 
Alan counted only fifteen precious stones, namely: 
eight gems in the first row, four in the second, and 
three in the third. Then between the second and 
third was the triangle which contained fifteen minute 
fubies on each one of its three sides. 

‘Tifteen gems in the lines,” murmured Fuller 
thoughtfully, ‘'and fifteen of them in each line of 
the triangle. I wonder, Mr. Sorley, if the number 
fifteen is the key to the secret.” 

‘T can’t say, I don’t know; I certainly cannot 
see how it can be,” replied the host doubtfully. “I 
have tried in every way to solve the riddle, but 
I cannot even see how to make a beginning. The 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


153 


secret may be contained in the position of the stones, 
the shapes of the stones, or the color of the stones.” 

Alan faced round. “What do you mean by the 
color answering the riddle?” 

“It is just an idea I got from a man who is 
a theosophist. In what they — the theosophists I 
mean — call the aura of a human being, which can 
be seen by those gifted with astral sight, the colors 
all mean something.” 

“I don’t quite follow you, Mr. Sorley, although 
I have heard something of this sort from Dick. He 
believes in these occult things. Do you?” 

“I can’t say that I have looked into them,” re- 
joined Sorley in a careless manner. “I only attended 
to the matter so far as the meaning of colors was 
concerned — a kind of color alphabet as it were. 
Pink means affection, blue means religion, green 
sympathy, and so on. I applied the principle, but 
it wouldn’t work.” 

Fuller quite believed this, as he did not see how 
the principle in question could be applied. However, 
he was too engrossed in drawing the bird to go into 
the subject at the present moment, but promised 
himself to ask for a more thorough explanation of 
the color alphabet — as Mr. Sorley aptly called it — 
from Dick Latimer. Meantime he drew the outline 
of the peacock, filled in the details, being particularly 
careful as to the position of the stones in the tail, 
and then slowly colored every part in accordance 
with the original object. When finished he laid 
down his brush with a tired sigh and held out the 
sketch at arm’s length. Mr. Sorley restored the 
peacock to its chamois leather wrapping and to the 
cupboard, after which he returned to examine Alan’s 
artistic effort. 

“Very good, very good,” he said nodding, “you 


154 the peacock OF JEWELS 


have done it very exactly, although the drawing is 
very stiff.” 

‘'Rather architectural isn’t it, sir ? But the original 
is stiff also, and I am not drawing from an artistic 
point of view, but with the idea of getting an exact 
representation of the thing,” said Alan, and slipping 
the sketch into an envelope, he put it along with 
the paint-box into his pocket. 

Before leaving, Fuller determined to speak to 
Sorley of what he had heard from Mrs. Verwin 
regarding the visit of Morad-Bakche to Belstone. 
He had immediately after the interview warned 
Marie not to mention what had been said to her 
uncle, but on reflection he thought that it would be 
just as well to learn what he could. Moreover Mrs. 
Verwin being loose-tongued would probably talk 
about the matter, and if it reached Sorley ’s ears he 
might get it into his suspicious mind that Alan was 
working against him, rather than with him, an 
attitude which was not to be permitted, since in 
this case union was strength. Whether Sorley was 
guilty or innocent the young man — as had been said 
before — could only decide on what evidence he 
possessed; but in any event, seeing that the gentle- 
man in question was Marie’s uncle. Fuller wished 
to arrive at the truth without too much publicity. 
For publicity on the face of it, meant the intervention 
of the police. 

“Do you know that I went to dinner at Miss 
Orison’s boarding-house?” asked Alan in a would- 
be careless manner. 

“No,” retorted Sorley, again looking uneasy, “and 
it does not interest me if you did,” his manner gave 
the lie to this statement. “That woman hates me 
and is trying to injure me!” 

“In what way?” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


155 


Sorley looked hard at the speaker. “By bringing 
back the peacock.’’ 

“I don’t quite understand.” And Fuller did not, 
as the remark puzzled him a great deal, lacking, as it 
did, a feasible explanation. 

“The woman stole the peacock,” said Sorley 
gloomily, “because she knew that I valued it and 
knew also that there was a riddle connected with 
it which would probably result in a treasure being 
found. For over twenty years she resisted all my 
supplications and threats to give it back, and I did 
not dare to move in the matter — as I told you before, 
Alan — lest she should destroy it. Yet here she 
comes down secretly and puts back the peacock in 
its old place without a word of explanation. 

“Have you asked her why she behaved in this 
manner ?” 

“No; I am only too content to have the golden 
bird back again without asking questions. She 
would probably tell a falsehood since she hates me.” 

“But if she hates you, Mr. Sorley, why did she 
give you back what you so very greatly desired?” 

“That is what I wish to know,” cried the elder 
man excitedly. “It is for no good object I am 
certain. She means to cause trouble in some way, 
but how, I fail to see. Remember her threats in this 
very room when she was here.” 

Alan nodded. “It is very strange,” he murmured, 
and wondered if Sorley really meant what he said, 
or whether he was preparing an excuse for himself 
should he be told — say by the police — that Grison at 
the time of his death had possessed the golden 
peacock. “It is very strange,” said Alan again, and 
pondered deeply, while Sorley watched him gloomily 
and in a shifty stealthy manner. He seemed more 
uneasy and anxious than ever. 


156 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘‘Why did you visit Mrs. Orison’s boarding- 
house?” he asked abruptly. 

Fuller roused himself. “To hear all I could about 
the Rotherhithe crime, Mr. Sorley. Dick was at the 
inquest ” 

“Dick. Who is Dick?” 

“Dick Latimer, a reporter, the man who shares 
my rooms. We were at college together. You have 
met him down here, Mr. Sorley.” 

“Yes, yes, I remember now. His name slipped 
my memory. So he was at the inquest, was he?” 

“Yes, and like myself he is very interested in this 
crime.” 

“There is nothing interesting about it,” said Sor- 
ley abruptly once more ; “some scoundrel of a sailor 
murdered the poor devil.” 

“But the motive?” asked Fuller, wondering if his 
host hinted at the dead man’s possession of the 
peacock. 

Sorley shrugged his shoulders. “Have those 
sort of people ever any motive, Alan,” he asked 
skeptically. 

“Certainly. A man doesn’t put his head in a 
noose for nothing.” 

“A noose.” Mr. Sorley shivered and put his hand 
to his throat with an uncomfortable look, “no I 
suppose a man would keep clear of the gallows if he 
could. But — ^but — well never mind, Alan, let us 
change this disagreeable subject. I promised to 
show you my own private collection of gems.” 

“Yes, I shall be pleased to look at them,” answered 
the young man, who saw that his last remark had 
greatly affected his host, a fact which again aroused 
his suspicions, and made him shrink from the dapper 
gentleman. 

Mr. Sorley made no reply, but went to a panel 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


IS7 


marked with a cross cut in its wood, which formed 
a portion of the inside wall of the library. He 
fumbled at some spring for a moment and then the 
panel slid into a groove to display a cupboard with 
many shelves upon which were ranged trays of 
jewels. One by one the man brought them to the 
central table, and his eyes glittered with fanatic joy 
as he pointed out their various beauties. And 
certainly throughout many years he had succeeded in 
gathering together a number of precious stones. 

“Little by little I have collected for over thirty 
years,” explained Mr. Sorley, mounting his hobby- 
horse, “buying here and there whenever I had the 
chance, and sometimes selling at a bargain what I 
had bought, so as to get some particular gem. There 
are quite six thousand pounds worth of jewels 
here, Alan, and only my poverty has prevented my 
buying more.” 

Fuller did not hint, as he might have done, that 
the collector had used his ward’s income as well as 
his own to indulge his expensive taste, and had also 
sold furniture to which he had no claim for the same 
reason. Under the circumstances it was foolish to 
quarrel with Sorley on this point. Until the mys- 
tery of the murder and the peacock was solved Alan 
wished to keep on good terms with the man, who 
evidently had to do with both. He therefore ex- 
amined the gems and listened patiently to Sorley’s 
explanations. And the jewels were certainly well 
worth looking at. There were diamonds cut and 
uncut, rubies colored like port wine, and some of 
the true pigeon blood hue ; emeralds displayed their 
verdant tints, and there were sapphires the color of 
a summer sky. Pearls were conspicuous by their 
absence, as if kept in a collection and not worn, — 
Sorley explained this— they became discolored; but 


158 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


beryl stones, amethysts, carbuncles, and opals, many- 
hued as a rainbow were displayed on the black vel- 
vet of the shallow trays. The collection was not 
of extraordinary value, but Sorley gloated over his 
darlings, streaming the stones between his fingers, 
holding them up to the light, and pointing out to 
Fuller the particular excellence of each. 

“It’s an expensive hobby,” said Alan, after an 
hour had been passed in this way, for Sorley talked 
on with the merciless zeal of a collector. 

“In a manner it is, my boy; but then gems are 
always worth money, and I can always sell these if 
necessary.” He shuddered, “I hope it will not be 
necessary. It would be like parting with my life 
to give up these. I know every single one and each 
represents days and weeks of bargaining. I could 
tell you the history of each gem.” 

“I fear that would be too long,” said Fuller 
hastily, for he was growing weary of this enthusi- 
asm; “but are you not afraid of these being stolen?” 

“No,” snapped Sorley, putting back the trays 
and adjusting the panel, so that it looked exactly like 
a portion of the wall, “no one would ever guess that 
the jewels were behind that cross. You know, but 
I don’t think you will rob me, Alan. Ha ! ha ! ha !” 

“I am not fond enough of gems to do so,” said 
the young man indifferently; “but you said at the 
vicarage that you feared lest you' should be mur- 
dered for the sake of your collection.” 

“Did I? Did I? I forget.” 

“You certainly did,” insisted Fuller, looking at 
him searchingly ; “and you seemed to be very much 
afraid.” 

“Well of course there is six thousand pounds 
worth of gems there. Some one might ” 

“Have you any particular person in your mind?” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 159 


Sorley turned gray and gasped, “Why do you 
say that?” he asked sharply. 

Fuller looked at him harder than ever. “I told 
you that I dined at Miss Grison’s boarding-house,” 
he explained; “while there I met with a man, who 
called himself Morad-Bakche 1 ” 

Mr. Sorley gasped again. “The Indian,” he 
muttered nervously. 

“Ah !” Alan gasped. “So you have seen him.” 

“Seen him, seen him. What do you mean?” 

“I mean that this Morad-Bakche came down to 
Belstone to ask after the peacock, and gained some 
information from Mrs. Verwin at the inn. She told 
him how it was suspected that the Grisons had 
stolen the ornament, and gave him the Bloomsbury 
address.” 

“So Morad-Bakche is at Miss Grison’s,” mut- 
tered Sorley, sitting down ; “that makes it more cer- 
tain that she is up to no good in connection with me.” 

“I thought it strange myself,” said Alan dryly. 

Sorley did not reply, but looked hard at the 
carpet, “What do you think of this Indian?” he 
asked abruptly. 

“I think he is a man who will stick at nothing to 
get the peacock.” 

“Then he is after that?” 

“You should know,” said Alan meaningly. 

“How should I know.” There was a note of de- 
fiance in the man’s voice. 

“Because Mrs. Verwin declared that Bakche went 
to look at The Monastery. If he did, I think — from 
what you hinted just now — that you saw him.” 

“Yes, I saw him, and what is more I spoke to him. 
Confound that woman! She chatters too much.” 

“Why should she not?” questioned the solicitor. 
“The story of the peacock is well known — that is 


i6o THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


the history of its being a fetish of the Inderwicks. 
That it can reveal a treasure is not known, I fancy.’^ 

‘'No. Quite so. After all Mrs. Verwin only said 
what everyone else can say, Alan. But I wish she 
hadn’t told Bakche about the Grisons.” 

Fuller shrugged his shoulders. “What does it 
matter now. You have the peacock in your own 
possession.” 

“Yes, I have the peacock, and if Bakche learns 
that, he may try and murder me. He is just the 
man — as you say — to stick at nothing.” 

“Oh, then, that was what you meant when you 
hinted your fears to me on Christmas Day at the 
vicarage ?” 

“Yes.” Sorley wiped his face again, looking still 
gray and anxious, “and of course Miss Grison had 
brought back the peacock by that time. If I hadn’t 
got it I should not be so afraid. Ah,” he rose and 
began to walk up and down in a startled way. “I 
see her game now Alan. She will tell Bakche how I 
have the peacock and he will — and he will — oh Alan !” 

The man gripped Fuller’s arm and appeared to 
be thoroughly frightened at the idea of a raid being 
made by the Indian. The solicitor gently forced 
Sorley to sit down again and asked for an explana- 
tion. “You must be frank with me if I am to help 
you,” said the solicitor. 

“Oh I shall be frank,” panted Sorley, as though 
he had been running for a long distance. “I can 
trust you, and you want to marry my niece. It is 
to your benefit to be on my side, and then ” 

Alan cut short this vague chatter. “Tell me 
about Bakche?” 

“Well then, he did come to The Monastery about 
July last. He called here openly, and told me what 
Mrs. Verwin had stated. He gave me to understand 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS i6i 


that he was the representative of the Kam royal 
people, and knew all about the peacock.” 

“How did he learn?” 

“From some family papers which stated that the 
Begum had given the gems to George Inderwick 
because he saved her life and the life of her son.” 

“Hum !” murmured Alan to himself. “So the ex- 
cuse of having been told by an Inderwick in India 
it was lost.” 

“Bakche wanted the peacock, and I told him that 
it was lost?” 

“Did you say who had stolen it?” 

“No, I didn’t. I thought, if I did, that Miss 
Grison out of spite might give it to him, and so I 
should lose the treasure.” 

“Did Bakche know that the peacock would reveal 
the whereabouts of ” 

Sorley interrupted eagerly. “Of course he did. 
The papers in question told him that Ferrier had 
manufactured the peacock as a guide. Bakche de- 
clared that the Begum had no right to give family 
jewels to Inderwick, and insisted that I should sur- 
render the peacock so that he could trace and re- 
cover them. I said that the bird was lost, and he 
went away greatly dissatisfied, saying that he would 
look for it.” 

“Of course,” said Alan nodding; “and as Mrs. 
Verwin had told him that the Grisons had stolen it, 
and had given him the boarding-house address, he 
went there to get it from her.” 

“I wonder why she didn’t give it to him to spite 
me,” groaned Sorley. 

Fuller was on the point of saying that she could 
not because her brother possessed the desired article, 
but checked himself. He did not wish to let Sorley 
know that he knew how Baldwin Grison had been 


i 62 the peacock of JEWELS 


murdered for the sake of that very peacock. And 
apparently from what had just been said, Sorley 
believed that the sister had always possessed it. 
“She preferred to give it to you,” said Alan. 

“Yes,” cried the man, “and why? Because she 
knew that Bakche wanted it. Now she will tell him 
and he will come and murder me to get it.” 

“He may not be so bloodthirsty,” said Fuller 
encouragingly, “and after all if you fear that, why 
not give him the peacock.” 

“No,” said Sorley energetically, “I shan’t give up 
the chance of getting the treasure. It belongs to 
Marie. I can’t as her guardian give up that.” 

“No.” Alan thought that Sorley was rather 
thinking of himself, than of his niece, “but what’s 
to be done ?” 

“Nothing, I tell you, nothing,” said the other man 
almost fiercely, “I shall hide the peacock along with 
my own jewels behind that panel. No one will 
ever guess that it is there, and I shall ask the village 
policeman to keep an eye on The Monastery in case 
Bakche tries to rob me . . . And what will you do, 
Alan?” 

“My course is obvious, Mr. Sorley. I shall try 
and solve the riddle.” 

“Yes, yes. And we can then get the treasure, and 
Bakche will be outwitted. Even if he steals the 
peacock, we have the drawing to unravel the prob- 
lem. Go! go! Alan go! and hold your tongue, 
for Miss Grison may not have told the man that I 
have the bird.” 

“Perhaps,” said Fuller dubiously, “time alone 
will show !” and he took his leave feeling that Miss 
Grison had probably informed Bakche about the 
peacock, on the chance that he would trouble the 
man she hated. 


CHAPTER XI 


JOTTY 

In due course Mr. Fuller returned to his office and 
to the chambers in Barkers Inn, only to find that 
Dick had not yet put in an appearance. Alan re- 
gretted his absence greatly, since Latimer was the 
one person to whom he could talk freely. Needless 
to say, the young man was bubbling over with the 
information he had acquired, and found it very 
difficult to think of anything else, which was scarcely 
a good state of mind in which to attend to his 
clients’ affairs. Had the solicitor been able, he 
would have set everything else aside until he had 
solved the mystery of the Rotherhithe murder, and 
had learned the secret of the peacock; but as he had 
to earn his bread and butter, such indulgence in 
gratifying his curiosity was not to be thought of. 
Alan felt very unsettled for quite a week after his 
arrival in Chancery Lane. 

Nor were his anxieties allayed when he heard 
from his clerk, that during his absence, an urchin 
who called himself Alonzo had haunted the office, 
demanding on every occasion to see Mr. Fuller. 
And the odd thing about the matter was, that when 
Alan really did return, Jotty — to give him his slum 
name — failed to put in an appearance. The solici- 
tor did not dare to write to the lad saying that he 
would be glad to accord him an interview on a set- 
tled date, since Miss Grison might read the letter 
and prevent the boy’s attendance. For the same 
reason Fuller did not call at the Thimble Square 
house, lest its landlady, being extremely sharp, 
might — and probably would — guess that he was 


i 64 the peacock OF JEWELS 

i 


tampering with Jotty’s loyalty. As a matter of fact 
Alan was not, as he did not seek to question the 
page about the lady, but simply wished to learn 
what he had to say concerning his association with 
Baldwin Grison. And as the dead man’s sister 
desired that the assassin of her brother should be 
captured and punished. Fuller deemed that he was 
right in using every means to forward her aims. 
Jotty — Alan felt sure of this — was a valuable wit- 
ness, and, if dexterously questioned, might be able 
to throw some light on the darkness which environed 
the crime. It certainly seemed that the next step 
to be taken was the examination of the street-arab, 
but as the lad did not put in an appearance, and 
Fuller — on the before-mentioned grounds — did not 
dare to awaken Miss Orison’s suspicions by sending 
for him, he had to wait patiently. And this, coupled 
with the continued absence of Latimer, did not tend 
to sweeten the young man’s now irritable temper. 

In fact the wear and tear of thought so displayed 
itself outwardly that when Dick did arrive he com- 
mented openly on his friend’s sorry looks. The 
reporter came back to London by the night mail, 
and finding when he got to Barkers Inn that Alan 
had already gone to his office he followed him there 
as soon as a bath and a change of clothes had made 
him respectable. Breakfast he had already dis- 
patched in a restaurant on his way from the rail- 
way station. Dick, having enjoyed his holiday, was 
in a happy frame of mind, but his smiles left him 
when he saw his chum’s anxious face. 

‘'What the deuce is the matter?” asked Mr. Lati- 
mer, when the first greetings were over, and he 
was smoking comfortably in a chair, “you look sick.” 

“I am sick — with worry,” said Fuller emphatical- 
ly, “it’s that infernal case.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 165 


‘"Oh,” said Dick leisurely; '‘which part of it in 
particular ?” 

“The whole. I have much to tell you, as I want 
your opinion. The more I look into the matter the 
more confused does it grow.” 

“Have you been looking into the matter?” asked 
Dick provokingly calm. 

“Yes, I have, and in consequence I have scarcely 
enjoyed my Christmas at home,” cried Alan. 

“Not even with the most charming girl in the 
world?” 

“No. Because she asks questions, and I have to 
keep a great deal from her.” 

“On account of her uncle?” 

“Precisely !” 

“Hum! Is he guilty?” 

“I don’t know. Anyway he has the peacock.” 

Latimer pushed back his chair and let his pipe 
fall. “What?” 

“He has the peacock. I’ve seen it, and what is 
more he allowed me to make a drawing of it,” and 
Alan fumbled among his papers for the sketch. 
“Here it is, Dicky !” 

“The devil!” ejaculated the journalist staring at 
the painted bird; “then the man murdered Grison 
after all.” 

“I’m not sure. I have my doubts.” 

“But hang it, man, you know that Grison was 
murdered for the sake of the original of this.” He 
laid his finger on the sketch, “and if Sorley has it, 
he must have taken it out of the murdered man’s 
room.” 

“Well you won’t be so sure of that when you 
have heard my story,” said Alan in a tart way, for 
his nerves were all jangling. 

“Tell it, old son,” remarked Latimer, recovering 


i66 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


his pipe, and not another word did he utter until he 
was in full possession of Alan’s information. 

The solicitor told him everything from the time 
he had arrived at Belstone until the moment of 
departure, and carried up the narrative as far as 
London by relating how Jotty had been haunting 
the office. 

“And now that I am back, the little fool won’t 
turn up,” finished Fuller, greatly exasperated, “and 
I dare not send for him.” 

“No,” nodded Dick grimly, “that is very obvious. 
The quieter you keep this business the better it 
will be until we get at its truth. Hum ! It’s a most 
extraordinary complication, Alan.” He stared at 
the sketch which was now lying on the table. 
“Have you solved this riddle ?” 

“No. So far as I can see there isn’t any riddle to 
solve.” 

“It looks like it,” murmured Dick, looking hard 
at Fuller’s artistic effort; “so my sixth sense was 
right when it told me that Morad-Bakche was mixed 
up in the matter.” 

Alan nodded crossly. “But I wish that your sixth 
sense would tell you who murdered Hrison.” 

“We shan’t learn that until we question the sister. 
If she admits that she took the peacock to The 
Monastery at Belstone, Sorley will be exonerated. 
If she declares that she did not, Sorley will have to 
account for its being in his possession.” 

“But confound it man, can’t you see that if — as 
Sorley says — she wishes to get him into trouble, she 
will certainly decline to tell the truth.” 

“What is the truth anyhow?” asked Dick, after 
the fashion of Pontius Pilate. 

“Lord knows!” replied Fuller disconsolately. 
“Of course Jotty never said that Grison had the 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 167 


peacock on the precise night of his murder. The 
boy only saw it on previous occasions. It is quite 
possible that the dead man may have given it to his 
sister to send to Sorley and make trouble. They 
both hated the man, and evidently with good rea- 
son.” 

‘"Yes; but if that were the case, it would argue 
that Grison knew he would be murdered, which is 
ridiculous. Besides Sorley told a lie about his motor 
bicycle, which shows that he does not wish it 
known he was able to slip up to town and back 
again without making use of the publicity of the 
railway. I am inclined to suspect Sorley as the 
guilty person.” 

^‘Do you think Bakche may have killed Grison?” 

‘‘No; for if he had he would scarcely have given 
the peacock to the sister for Sorley’s benefit.” 

Alan nodded. “I thought that myself, “he said 
slowly. “Well what is to be done now, Dicky?” 

“Inspector Moon ought to know,” said Latimer 
significantly. 

Fuller jumped up quickly, “Not just now, Dick; 
don’t say anything to him. He would certainly ar- 
rest Sorley straight away, and I wish to spare Marie 
the disgrace.” 

“But the truth is bound to come out sooner or 
later, Alan,” remarked Dick, perplexed how to act. 

“The truth! Quite so. Still, when known, the 
truth may not implicate Mr. Sorley. For all we 
know he may be perfectly innocent.” 

“He may be,” retorted Latimer dryly, and with a 
shrug, “but to my mind he seems to be deeply in- 
volved in the matter. The evidence is strong ” 

“The circumstantial evidence,” corrected Alan 
quickly. 

“I don’t see that your interpolated word matters 


i68 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


a cent, sonny. The peacock being in the man’s 
possession points to his guilt.” 

“Unless Miss Orison left it secretly at The 
Monastery.” 

“There is that chance certainly,” admitted Dick 
with another shrug. “However as Sorley is not 
aware that he is suspected he won’t try to bolt, so 
under the circumstances I shall hold my tongue 
until things straighten out a trifle. But if he does 
try to leave the country, I must speak, Alan, and so 
must you, else we may be accused of compounding 
a felony. As a lawyer you ought to know that 
much.” 

“I do know it,” said Fuller impatiently, “and if 
Sorley is guilty he assuredly must be arrested and 
punished when the case is proved. All the same 
we must give him the benefit of the doubt until his 
criminality is placed beyond all question.” 

“Why do you defend the man so?” asked Latimer 
suspiciously; “you don’t approve of him, as you 
have told me dozens of times.” 

“I am not thinking of the man so much as of 
Marie. The shame of having her uncle tried and 
hanged for a sordid murder would certainly break 
her heart, Dick.” 

“Well there’s something in that. How love does 
complicate honest behavior. But that you love 
Miss Inderwick you would have no hesitation in 
telling Moon the truth.” 

“I admit that. But things being as they are, 
I must ask you not to speak to the police until I give 
you leave.” 

“Very good, old son. I see we’ll both end in jail, 
for tampering with the course of justice. All trie 
same I shall hold my tongue. And now that being 
settled so far may I ask what you intend to do ?” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 169 


“I can hardly say. What in yout opinion is the 
step I should take?’' 

“Question Miss Grison and learn if she took back 
the peacock,” said Dick without a moment’s hesita- 
tion. 

“But hang it all man, she will only tell lies.” 

“Why should she?” 

“Your common-sense, let alone what we talked 
about a few moments ago, should tell you,” said 
Fuller impatiently. “If she did take all that trouble 
to implicate Sorley, she won’t give herself away by 
acknowledging it. The admission that she concealed 
the peacock in its old cupboard would exonerate 
Sorley. You can see that?” 

“Yes! Of course since she hates the man, she 
Hullo, what’s up ?” Latimer asked this ques- 
tion because Alan suddenly started to his feet and 
listened intently to a noise in the outer office. 

“I hear a boy’s voice,” said the solicitor hastily 
throwing open the door just in time to permit Jotty 
to be pushed into the room by the indignant clerk 
with whom he had been arguing. “Oh it’s you, 
young man. I thought so. That’s all right, Sey- 
mour, I’ll attend to him,” and Fuller, closing the 
door, pointed out a chair to the page. “Sit down, 
Jotty.” 

“Alonzer, please sir,” said the lad quickly, “I 
don’t want t’ hey anythin’ t’ do wiff m’ ole bad self. 
I’ve turned over a new leaf, Miss Grison ses.” 

“We’ll take a look at the old leaf before you do 
that finally,” said Alan, seating himself at his desk. 
“Just now and for the next half hour, you are the 
disreputable Jotty, and not the Sunday-school 
Alonzo.” 

The boy grinned cunningly and nodded, glancing 
round the office and at Latimer in a furtive and 


i;o THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


stealthy manner. He did not wear his page’s suit 
of many buttons, but a civilian kit of badly-cut 
tweed clothes. But as his sleek hair was well oiled, 
and he had a penny sprig of holly in his button-hole 
it must be presumed that Jotty was out for the day, 
and was very pleased with his general appearance. 
Being small and wizen, his legs scarcely touched the 
ground, when seated, and he looked not unlike a 
monkey. But his very shrewd and restless eyes, 
which were taking in everything to be stored in his 
active brain, showed that he was a clever and de- 
cidedly dangerous lad. 

"‘Who’s him, sir?” asked Jotty, pointing at Dick 
in negro fashion with his sharp chin, “d’y wan’ me 
t’ tork wen he’s here?” 

“Yes, and you know this gentleman, so don’t pre- 
tend ignorance.” 

“Ho yes,” murmured Jotty with pretended sur- 
prise, “y’wos at th’ inquitch wosn’t y’sir.” 

“I was, Jotty. You and I and Inspector Moon 
had a talk.” 

“ ’Ad we, sir?” asked the lad with a vacant look. 

Fuller leaned over and gave him a shake. “No 
nonsense, boy,” he said sharply, “you have to an- 
swer a few questions. I’m glad you have come to 
see me at last, you young rip.” 

“At larst, sir,” protested the page meekly, “why 
I’ve bin an’ bin an’ bin ever so oftin and couldn’t 
spot yer nohow, sir. An’ t’aint easy t’ git out of 
th’ house wen she’s got her eyes abaout nohow. 
But it’s m’day orf an’ I come along t’ see if I cud 
make a quid or two.” 

“Your price is a high one,” said Alan dryly, 
“how do I know what you have to tell me is worth 
a pound, or a quid as you call it.” 

“Oh I ain’t got nothink t’ tell,” said Jotty readily, 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


171 


‘^but I thought es y’d help a pore cove es wants t’ 
be respectable.” 

"‘I shall help you at a price,” said Fuller, who did 
all the talking while Dick smoked in silence and 
kept his ears and eyes open. Latimer had not a 
very good opinion of the witness, as he thought him 
cunning, and likely to tell lies unless he was driven 
into a corner, and perhaps for that very reason. 
‘‘Do you know this ?” asked Alan, pushing the 
sketch under Jotty’s shrewd blue eyes. Dick 
frowned at the action, as he deemed it wise that 
Alan should have kept the fact of the peacock being 
in Sorley’s possession to himself, in the meantime 
at all events. 

“Yessir,” said Jotty quickly, “it’s a picter of him 
es was kind t’ me’s goldbird es he showed me times 
an’ agin.” 

“Well then,” said Alan, and Dick’s frown relaxed 
as he spoke, “this picture, as you call it was 
taken long ago, before Mr. Grison got the pea- 
cock. Was the bird like that sketch, or is there any 
change.” 

“Nosir. It wos just like that here. Wiff a big 
tail and shiny things on it. Them spots is th’ shiny 
things ain’t they, sir?” 

Alan nodded, while Dick grinned at this compli- 
ment to his friend’s artistic abilities. “When did 
you see the peacock last?” 

“On the very night es he es wos kind t’ me wos 
murdered.” 

“Can you swear to that ?” asked Alan with secret 
dismay, for this reply seemed to prove that Sorley 
was guilty. 

“Yessir. I kin swear hard I kin,” said Jotty 
with a frank smile. 

“Are you sure that Mr. Grison didn’t give the 


172 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


peacock to someone, say a day or so before he met 
with his death?” 

‘‘Him give it away,” cried Jotty with supreme 
contempt, “why sir, he es wos good t’ me, ses t’ me 
es he’d rather die nor give up thet shiny thing. An’ 
die he did, when it wos took.” 

“Who took it, boy?” demanded Dick suddenly. 

“Him es slipped the knife int’ th’ pore cove.” 

“Are you sure that Grison had the peacock on 
the night he died?” asked Alan, fighting against 
hope for Marie’s sake. 

“I’d swear t’ it anywhere, sir,” said Jotty con- 
fidently. “I liked t’ hev a look et that there shiny 
thing, and him es wos good t’ me, he shows it t’ me 
most every night, saying wot lots of swell things it 
cud buy. Every night he showed it t’ me,” repeated 
Jotty with emphasis, “and afore he went t’bed that 
night he let me ’ave a squint.” 

“On the night he was murdered.” 

“On the night he was done for,” said Jotty in his 
own simple way. 

“That seems conclusive, Alan,” put in Latimer. 

“Yes,” said the lawyer with a sigh, then added 
under his breath. “Poor Marie, what a shock for 
her. Jotty, you liked Mr. Grison, didn’t you?” 

“Yessir, no end. He wos good t’ me, and guv’ 
me things t’ eat an’ drink. Oh my,” Jotty rubbed 
his lean stomach vulgarly, “the baked taters an’ 
cor fee and saveloys I hed when he stood sam.” 

“Then you would like the man who stabbed him 
to be punished?” pursued Fuller artfully. 

“Yessir; and bring him t’ th’ gallers I shell some- 
how.” 

“But you have no idea who murdered Mr. Gri- 
son?” remarked Latimer quickly. 

“Oh hevn’t I? Perhaps not, and praps I ain’t 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


sich a fool es you’d think me t’ be, mister. I knows 
whot I knows anyhow.” 

“What is that, Jotty.” 

The lad looked indescribably cunning. “I ain’t 
agoin’ t’ tell till I’m a dead cert es I’m right.” 

“But if you tell me, Jotty, I can help you.” 

“I don’ want no help,” said the boy sullenly. 

“If I speak to Inspector Moon you’ll have to 
tell,” said Dick sharply. 

“Sha’n’t, so there,” growled Jotty, his shrill voice 
becoming gruff as if the change to manhood had 
suddenly taken place. 

“You shall.” 

Jotty made no reply, but looked at both gentle- 
men with a mulish expression evidently determined 
not to speak. “It’s wuth a quid or two,” he mut- 
tered after a long pause. 

“What is worth a quid or two?” demanded Alan, 
eyeing him with a strong dislike, for he objected to 
the brat’s obstinacy. 

“What I knows.” 

“What do you know ?” 

“That’s tellin’s.” 

“If I give you a quid, as you call it, will you tell.” 

“Yessir,” said Jotty promptly, and held out a 
curved claw in which Alan, as promptly, placed 
a sovereign. The boy bit it to prove its quality and 
then spat on it for luck. “I knows someone es wos 
with him es wos good t’ me, on that night,” said 
Jotty, agreeably supplying the information. 

“Who was the person?” asked Latimer, while 
Alan winced, quite expecting to hear the name of 
Sorley. 

“Sha’n’t tell.” 

“Do you know the name?” 

“Yessir. Leastways I spelled it out fro’ th’ let- 


174 the peacock OF JEWELS 


ter. Oh I’ve ’ad schoolin’, I ’ave, gents both, and 
knows m’ letters somehow.” 

‘What is this letter?” asked Alan in a peremp- 
tory tone. 

“A letter es the cove es came wrote sayin’ he’d 
come. I never sawr him es wrote the letter,” ex- 
plained Jotty, “cos, after I seed the peacock on th’ 
night; him es wos good t’ me turned me out to dos 
elsewheres. But I fun’ the letter I did in them ole 
clothes.” 

“Whose old clothes?” 

“Him es wos good t’ me.” 

“Mr. Orison?” 

“Yessir. He fell an’ got covered with mud like. 
An’ he ses t’ me he’d like me t’ taike the mud orf, 
and I did. In th’ coat I fun’ th’ letter, an’ wrapped 
up marbles in it. I furgot t’ put it back,” added 
Jotty in an apologetic manner, “an’ es he es wos 
good t’ me didn’t ask fur no letter, I never said 
anything, I didn’t, nohow.” 

“When was this?” questioned Alan anxiously. 

“On the day afore he es wos good t’ me wos made 
a dead un.” 

“Have you the letter?” 

“Yes sir!” and Jotty clutched the breast of his 
ill-fitting jacket, “but I want another quid or two 
for it.” 

“You know how to make a bargain, young man,” 
said Latimer humorously; “just hand over that 
letter at once.” 

“I sha’n’t. So there,” said Jotty, turning obsti- 
nate again. “It’s wuth another quid anyhow. An’ 
I sawr him es wrote it when he called t’ see him es 
wos good t’ me afore.” 

“Oh this person called to see Mr. Grison before, 
did he.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 175 


‘‘Onct or twice he did. Allays at night, and then 
they torks.” 

‘‘What about?” 

“I dunno, sir. I never heard. Him es was good 
f me, he allays turned me out wen the gent came.” 

“Oh,” said Dick meditatively, “so this visitor 
was a gent?” 

“Yes sir. A real gent, wiff slap-up clothes 
and ” 

The description sounded like that of Sorley, and 
Alan stretched out his hand. “I want that letter, 
you imp?” he said impressively. 

“Give me a quid an’ it’s yours.” 

Fuller shrugged his shoulders and glanced at 
Latimer, who nodded. It was unpleasant being 
dictated to by a boy, but the issues were so great 
that Dick’s nod intimated it was best to agree, and 
get the epistle in question with the least possible 
trouble. Money was scarce with Fuller, but so 
anxious was he to arrive at the truth that he reluc- 
tantly brought forth another sovereign. Jotty 
clawed it and went through the same ceremony. He 
then produced a letter written on very excellent 
paper, which was dirty with having been in his 
pocket for some length of time, probably to wrap 
up the marbles he had mentioned. In his anxiety 
Dick rose and looked over his friend’s shoulder to 
read the letter. It did not take long, as it only con- 
sisted of a date, a line and the writer’s initials as 
follows, on a plain sheet of gray note-paper without 
any address : — 


“ii November. 

“Will see you seven o’clock, 13: ii: 08. 

“R. V. S.” 


176 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘'Is it his writing?” asked Latimer, referring to 
Sorley, but not mentioning the name because of 
Jotty’s presence. 

“I think so. I can compare it with the letter he 
wrote me. The initials are certainly his, and the 
appointment is for the night of the murder.” 

“But he wos up afore,” put in Jotty, who grinned 
in a very satisfied manner, as he well might do, con- 
sidering he had just made two pounds. 

“Who was up before?” asked Latimer sharply. 

“Him es wrote thet letter.” 

“Can you describe the man?” 

“Ain’t I done so,” said Jotty in an injured tone, 
“he wos a real gent wifif slap-up clothes. Hadn’t 
got no hair on his face he hadn’t and torked es if. 
every cove wos dirt. Stiff-like, too, an’ an ole ’un, 
tryin’ to look like a young toff.” 

Alan winced again as both the letter and Jotty’s 
very excellent description seemed to prove that 
Sorley was the guilty person. “How do you know 
that this gentleman you describe wrote the letter?” 

“Cos I seed him coming up an hour or so afore 
him es wos good t’ me kicked th’ bucket. I wos 
turned out, long afore he come in. So I goes away 
an’ dosses wiff a friend o’ mine, and never hears no 
more till nex’ morning when Mother Slaig, she ups 
and ses es murder had bin done cruel.” 

“Is that all you know?” 

“Every blessed bit, sir,” said Jotty cheerfully. 

“Why didn’t you tell this to Inspector Moon at 
the inquest?” demanded Latimer sharply. 

“Cos there wasn’t no quids in it then,” retorted 
the boy impudently, “an’ I do nothin’ fur nothin’, I 
do 'anyhow. An’ now I’ve got wot I arsked fur,” 
he placed his cap on his head, “I’m orf t’ give m’self 
a treat.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 177 


The youth had edged near the door by this time, 
and held it slightly open, evidently expecting to be 
stopped. Indeed Fuller put out an arm to detain 
him and ask further questions, only to cause Jotty 
to vanish in a remarkably swift space of time. 
Dick prevented Alan, who was about to follow. 

“Let him go,’’ said Latimer quickly, “we can 
always get hold of him when we want Compare 
the letters ?’’ 

Without a word Alan did so, and placed both the 
one he had received from Sorley and that which 
Jotty had sold, under Dick’s eye. The latter drew 
a long breath. “There’s no doubt about it, Alan,” 
he said sadly, “they are written by one and the 
same man. Sorley had an appointment with Grison 
at Mother Slaig’s on the night of the crime, as this 
letter proves. Also Jotty declares that he saw him, 
for the description is very accurate. Hum ! I wish 
you had not shown the boy that drawing of the 
peacock.” 

“The moment I did show it, I guessed that I had 
made a mistake,” said Fuller quickly; “and so I was 
forced against my will to tell a necessary lie in order 
to lull the lad’s suspicions. But it seems evident, 
Dick, that Sorley got the peacock from Grison, and 
that the yarn about the sister leaving it, is wholly 
untrue. What’s to be done now?” 

“Sorley must be arrested for murder,” said Dick 
decisively. 

“No, no. He may be innocent after all!” 

“Innocent when you have seen that note and 
heard Jotty’s description?” 

“Well,” said Alan anxiously, “wait for three days 
before doing anything.” 

Dick wavered then made up his mind abruptly. 
“All right, I’ll wait,” he said gruffly. 


CHAPTER XII 


AN INDIAN CLIENT 

Dick Latimer had promised to hold his peace for 
three days before imparting to the inspector who 
.was in charge of the Rotherhithe case what had been 
discovered with reference to Sorley. All the same 
he was troubled in his mind, as he could not be sure 
if he was acting rightly. Much as he sympathized 
with Fuller because the man likely to be arrested 
was the uncle of the girl to whom his friend was 
engaged, it did not seem right that a criminal should 
remain at large. The journalist indeed thought 
that Alan^s objections were rather sentimental, and 
that justice should be done in spite of Marie’s feel- 
ings, which assuredly would be outraged. Never- 
theless he admitted that Fuller was placed in a diffi- 
cult position, and it was natural that he should 
wish to gain time in the hope of proving Mr. Sor- 
ley’s innocence, and so avert the scandal. 

But, so far as Dick could see, there was no chance 
of clearing the man’s character. He had been with 
Grison, whom he openly detested, on the very night 
when the murder was committed, and shortly before 
it took place, as was conclusively proved not only 
by the letter, but by the evidence of the street-arab, 
who certainly could never have invented such an 
accurate description of the guilty person. Then 
again, Jotty had sworn that on the night of the 
crime he had been given his usual treat of a display 
of the peacock, and since that was now in Sorley’s 
possession, it could only have passed into it directly 
from the dead man. And as the presumed criminal’s 
full name, Randolph Vernon Sorley, was intimated 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS ,179 


by the initials R. V. S., and the note to Grison was 
certainly in his handwriting there appeared to be 
no doubt that he had murdered the miserable crea- 
ture to obtain wrongful possession of the Inder- 
wick fetish. Finally, since that had been stolen, all 
Sorley’s energies had been bent upon getting it 
again, and in desperation he probably had struck 
the fatal blow. Of course the story of Miss Gri- 
son having taken the peacock back to The Monas- 
tery was one — so Dick thought — deliberately in- 
vented to implicate the woman and account for the 
reappearance of the desired article. 

Upon this evidence it could scarcely be doubted 
that Sorley was guilty, and when the fact that he 
had purchased a motor bicycle was taken into ac- 
count, Latimer could see no flaw in the indictment. 
More than ever he considered it necessary to have 
Sorley brought to justice, which would be done as 
soon as Inspector Moon was informed of these dis- 
coveries. But having made a promise, Dick faith- 
fully kept it, in spite of the many qualms of con- 
science he daily felt. Then on the third day he 
took up a newspaper to find a new and extraordin- 
ary development of the case. After mastering the 
article, which appeared in The Latest News, a daily 
paper much given to gossip, he jumped into a han- 
som and drove direct to Fuller’s office. It chanced 
that Alan was not engaged, so Dick entered at once 
into his friend’s private room, flourishing the paper. 

“Have you seen this ?” he asked, placing it before 
Alan. 

“Seen what?” asked the other, glancing at the 
heading indicated, and then he took in the meaning 
at once. “Good Lord!” 

He might well utter the ejaculation, for the arti- 
cle contained an account of the Inderwick fetish 


!18 o the peacock OF JEWELS 


V 


given — as was intimated — by no less a person than 
Miss Louisa Grison. The story of Perrier was 
narrated, much in the same fashion as it appeared 
in the manuscript at The Monastery, and it was 
very plainly stated that a treasure was to be found 
when the riddle attached to the peacock was solved. 
Finally, Miss Grison ended the interview with the 
man, who had written the article, by saying that 
her dead brother had possessed the golden bird at 
the time of his death, and that in her mind there 
was no doubt that he had been murdered for its 
sake. ‘Tind the peacock,” said Miss Grison, ‘"and 
you find the assassin of my dear brother.” Then the 
article terminated with comments by the writer on 
the extraordinary and romantic story which had 
been set forth, and with the original remark culled 
from Hamlet, ‘That there were more things in 
heaven and earth, etc., etc.” 

‘T wonder he didn’t add that truth is stranger 
than fiction,” remarked Dick, while Alan hastily 
skimmed the account. ‘Tt is just as original Well, 
my son, and what do you think now ?” 

‘T think,” replied Fuller, very decisively, “that 
Jotty has repeated to his mistress wliat he told us, 
and she has taken steps to trap Sorley.” 

“But she doesn’t know that he has the peacock — 
for certain that is?” 

Alan shrugged his shoulders. “My mistake in 
showing the drawing to the boy has proved that 
Sorley has the bird. Miss Grison, I daresay, knew 
that no sketch had been made of it before it was 
taken away; and in any event what Jotty told us is 
sufficient evidence to secure Sorley’s arrest.” 

“I think so indeed. There is no longer any need 
for me to keep silence.” 

“Well,” said Fuller hesitatingly, “I suppose there 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS i8i 


isn’t. Moon is certain to see this account, and 
will come to ask Miss Grison why she has made the 
matter public after promising to be silent. She can 
only excuse herself by repeating Jotty’s story, and 
Moon will certainly go down to Belstone to arrest 
Sorley. Poor Marie !” 

"‘Fm not so sure you can call her that,” put in 
Dick hastily. *'After all if the man is a criminal, it 
is better that she should not be in his company.” 

“But the disgrace to the name ” 

“To Sorley’s name, not to Miss Inderwick’s. 
Besides when she marries you she will change her 
name. It is no use being sentimental any longer, 
my boy,” said Latimer resolutely. “The man must 
be punished. I’m off to see the inspector, and tell 
him what I know.” 

“But Dick won’t it be best to question Miss Grison 
first, and learn if she really has heard Jotty’s story.” 

“I am quite sure she has,” said the reporter 
emphatically, “else she would not have broken her 
promise to Moon. The matter of the peacock was 
kept silent so that the assassin, feeling safe, might 
betray himself — as he has done, by the way to you. 
Miss Grison, learning from the boy that Sorley is 
guilty, has taken the opportunity of making the 
story as public as possible so that the man can’t 
escape.” 

“He may see the papers and take warning,” 
suggested Alan. “I expect this tale will be in 
every paper in the kingdom to-morrow.” 

“All the more reason that I should see Moon at 
once. I am not going to dilly-dally any more, Alan, 
but do my duty, as I expect you to do yours.” 

“I can’t blame you. Go and see Moon.” 

Latimer hesitated at the door. “You won’t wire 
to Sorley, or send that paper to him, I suppose.” 


i 82 the peacock of JEWELS 


‘‘No. If the man is guilty and it certainly looks 
as though he were, he must be punished. I shall 
not interfere, unpleasant as the scandal will be for 
Marie. Go and do your duty, Dick, by telling Moon, 
and I shall do mine by keeping perfectly quiet.’' 

Latimer argued no longer but took his departure, 
leaving Alan much disturbed in his own mind. And 
no wonder. Marie did not love her uncle, who 
had always treated her with indifference, and had 
made use of her money for his own purposes. Still, 
it would be a terrible shock for her to hear that he 
had murdered the brother of Miss Grison, and of 
course the shame of having a relative hanged would 
be great. And Fuller did not see how Mr. Sorley 
could escape the gallows, since the evidence on the 
whole was so very decisive. At the best he could 
only defend himself by putting forward the story 
about Miss Grison, and that was but a weak line to 
take up. 

“Hum!” said Alan, opening the drawer of his 
desk to look at the sketch he had made, “I wish I 
had not showed this to Jotty. He must have men- 
tioned it to Miss Grison, and from that fact she prob- 
ably guessed that Sorley had the peacock. The man 
will certainly be arrested, for he will have no time to 
escape.” 

As Alan murmured this he glanced idly at the 
paper which Dick had brought, and saw that it was 
dated the previous day, and of course had been 
issued yesterday morning. It occurred to the young 
man that chance might possibly bring the paper to 
Sorley’s notice, since four and twenty hours — if not 
more — had elapsed since its publication. And if 
the man was warned in time he assuredly would 
escape, before Inspector Moon could lay hands on 
him. Fuller hoped that this would be the case, if 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 183’ 


only to spare Marie the shame and pain of the 
scandal. But after all it was doubtful if the account 
would fall into Sorley’s hands immediately, as few 
newspapers arrived at Belstone, and the doings of 
the world w-ere always hours and days and, at times, 
weeks late. The solicitor shook his head dubiously, 
and wrapping up his sketch in the journal, he placed 
both in the drawer of his desk. There seemed 
nothing for it but to wait for Sorley’s arrest, and to 
hear what defense he would make to the charge 
brought against him. 

Shortly a card was presented to the lawyer by his 
clerk, and on seeing the name Fuller ordered the 
owner to be shown in at once. In a few moments 
he was face to face with Mr. Morad-Bakche, who 
looked calm and aristocratic and — as Alan judged — ■ 
indifferent. Yet if he had seen the article in The 
Latest News, and really had come to England to 
search for the treasure, Bakche surely would not 
feign a nonchalance he could not possibly feel. 

“How are you, Mr. Bakche?” asked Alan, polite 
and watchful, while placing a chair for the Indian, 
“so you have come to see me as you said you 
would.” 

“Yes, sir, and about a very important subject,” 
replied Bakche, sitting down stiffly, and taking a 
newspaper out of his pocket. 

“Yes?” said Alan inquiringly, though of course 
the moment he saw the paper produced he knew 
why the man had come to see him. 

Bakche doubled back the journal and pointed out 
the article with a slender brown finger. “Have you 
seen this ?” he asked quietly. 

It was not to Fuller’s interest to admit anything, 
as it was necessary to conduct this interview with 
great caution. The young man quietly read again 


i 84 the peacock OF JEWELS 


the account of the interview with Miss Grison. All 
the time, Bakche was looking at him hard, trying 
to guess by the expression of Alan’s face what he 
truly thought. 

But the solicitor was prepared for the scrutiny, 
and kept an unmoved countenance. “Very interest- 
ing,” remarked Fuller coolly, when he had finished. 

“But not new to you, sir, I presume.” 

“Well no, Mr. Bakche. The story told by Miss 
Grison is well known in Belstone, the parish of 
which my father is the vicar. I have heard it 
before.” 

“Have you heard before that this man Grison 
was murdered for the sake of the peacock?” de- 
manded the Indian rather impatiently, and thereby 
showed that his indifference was mainly pretence. 

“It was commonly reported in Belstone that the 
Grisons, brother and sister, had stolen the peacock 
from the Inderwick family when they left The 
Monastery some twenty years ago. But, pardon me, 
Mr. Bakche, why do you come here and ask me 
these questions?” 

“Can’t you guess, sir?” 

“How can I guess?” retorted Fuller cautiously. 

“By putting two and two together, as is your 
English way,” said Bakche in a calmer manner. “I 
told you when you dined at Miss Grison’s that I 
had come to England in order to recover certain 
family property.” 

“You did. Well?” 

“The property I referred to is the peacock of 
jewels.” 

“How did you expect me to know that, Mr. 
Bakche ?” 

“I can answer that if you will reply to a question ?” 

“What is the question?” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 185 


“Do you know the story set forth in this article T' 
asked the Indian quickly. 

“Yes. As I told you the whole countryside knows 
it.’’ 

“Then you must be aware that the Begum of Kam 
gave the jewels to Simon Ferrier. I told you that 
I am a descendant of the Rajah of Kam, so you must 
have guessed that I desired to obtain possession of 
the peacock.” 

“Quite so,” said Fuller coolly, “but there was 
no need for me to say so.” 

Bakche was honest enough to admit this. “You 
are very cautious, you English gentlemen,” he said 
with a faint sneer, “and no doubt you did not wish 
me to get the peacock.” 

“I fail to see how my telling you what you have 
now told me would aid you to get what belongs 
rightfully to another person.” 

“It does not belong to another person, but to me,” 
cried Bakche wrath fully. 

Alan raised his eyebrows. “How do you make 
that out ?” he demanded in an exasperating manner. 
“George Inder wick’s servant, Ferrier, manufactured 
the peacock for his master and ” 

“And so manufactured it that in some strange 
way it reveals where the jewels of the Begum are 
concealed,” finished the Indian sharply. “Under- 
stand Mr. Fuller, that I do not exactly claim the 
peacock ” 

“You did just now,” interrupted Alan in his turn, 
and shrugging. 

“Only because I wish to learn where the jewels 
are hidden.” 

“Indeed. You will find that difficult, since for 
over one hundred years, the riddle of the peacock 
has been unsolved.” 


i86 THE PEACOCK OF JEWEHS 


''Never mind,” said Bakche doggedly. "If I see 
the bird I shall probably be able to learn the truth.” 

"And then ? ” Alan raised his eyebrows again. 

"Then,” said the other confidently, "I shall take 
the jewels.” 

"You may not be allowed.” 

"Why not. The jewels belong to me as the 
descendant of the Rajah of Kam.” 

"You forget,” said Fuller smoothly, "that the 
rajah’s wife gave the same to George Inderwick 
because he saved her life and the life of her son.” 

"She had no right to do so,” cried Bakche loudly, 
"the jewels were not her private property to dispose 
of, Mr. Fuller. They belonged to the family — to the 
state as it were. Royal treasure cannot be parted 
with in this way.” 

"I am not prepared to argue the matter, Mr. 
Bakche,” remarked Fuller in a dry manner, "since — 
beyond the known story, which has become a Sussex 
legend — I am not acquainted with the exact facts. 
But I would point out that the rajah may have given 
his wife permission to reward her preserver in this 
way. Inderwick assuredly deserved a return for 
what he did.” 

Bakche bowed stiffly. "I admit that the gentle- 
man acted bravely, and as I am descended from the 
young prince he saved I am indebted to him for the 
fact that I exist at all. Nevertheless, Mr. Fuller, 
the reward need not have taken the form of almost 
the whole of the royal treasure of Kam.” 

Alan shrugged his shoulders again. "The Begum 
was apparently a very grateful woman, Mr. Bakche. 
And if she had retained the treasure, it would have 
been confiscated by the British Government when 
the royalty of Kam was abolished.” 

"It is probable,” said Bakche dryly; "but I think - 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 187 


that the priests would have taken care to preserve 
the jewels and give them, when times became quieter, 
to the rightful owner/' 

‘^In which case you would now be in possession 
of them, I presume ?" 

‘"Certainly. I am a direct descendant of the 
prince saved by Mr. Inderwick, sir. As it is I shall 
certainly claim them." 

“You have to find them first," retorted Alan 
coolly. 

“Show me the peacock and I shall try to solve 
the riddle and find them." 

Fuller laughed and shrugged. “Does that mean 
I am the criminal?" 

“Oh no," Bakche hastened to explain smoothly; 
“but you may know where the peacock is to be 
found." 

“Really, I don't quite follow your line of argu- 
ment, Mr. Bakche. 

“Let me put the matter in this way," said the 
Indian deliberately: “The peacock is fiot only 
valuable in itself, but also indicated the whereabouts 
of a great treasure. Miss Grison declares that her 
brother was murdered for the sake of the bird, so it 
is plain that the assassin must have known the mean- 
ing of the riddle." 

“Still I cannot follow your line of argument," 
persisted Fuller; “so far as I know the riddle has 
never been solved, unless Baldwin Grison, who had 
the bird for over twenty years — according to his 
sister that is — guessed what has baffled everyone." 

“Well," said Bakche sullenly, “whether he solved 
the riddle or not, some one who wanted the treasure 
murdered him to obtain the clue.” 

“On the other hand some rough sailor may have 
killed the man merely for the sake of getting the 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


1 88 


bird. It is valuable enough, as you say yourself, to 
account for the assassin risking his neck. But why 
come to me, Mr. Bakche, since on the face of it I can 
possibly know nothing.’^ 

^'You know who wants the bird!” 

‘'Oh yes. Miss Inderwick, from whose house it 
was stolen, and to whom I am engaged, wants the 
bird very much, since it belongs rightfully to her. 
But I hope you don’t accuse a girl of twenty of the 
crime.” 

“No! no! no!” said Bakche earnestly; “but 
other people know of the value of the peacock.” 

“I agree. The whole countryside knows the 
story. If you suspect anyone in Belstone you had 
better go down and look for the individual.” 

“I suspect Mr. Sorley !” 

“Why?” demanded Alan, who had quite antici- 
pated the question. 

“Because he wanted the peacock.” 

“So did Miss Inderwick, so did many other 
people. Everyone who knows the story would like 
to find the jewels.” Alan paused for a reply but 
as none came he continued coolly: “How did you 
trace the possession of the peacock to Baldwin 
Grison ?” 

“I didn’t — that is, I did in a way,” stammered 
the Indian nervously. 

“In what way?” asked Fuller relentlessly, and 
trying to make Bakche tell what was already known 
to him, “for instance how did you come to live at 
Miss Orison’s boarding-house?” 

“I explained when I met you there, sir.” 

Fuller laughed ironically. “You did, and I beg 
leave to doubt the truth of the explanation, Mr. 
Bakche.” 

“How dare you, sir ; by what right do you doubt 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 189 


me?” demanded the man furiously, and his dark 
eyes shot fire. 

“By the doubt of common-sense. You were in 
search of the peacock in order to gain a clue to the 
hiding-place of these jewels you claim. Come now, 
Mr. Bakche, it was not mere chance tjiat guided you 
to Miss Grison, who of all the people in London, 
knew about the matter.” 

Morad-Bakche looked sullenly at the carpet, and 
evidently saw that Alan was one too many for him. 
After a long pause, which Fuller took care not to 
terminate too soon, he looked up with a would-be 
frank smile. “As I wish you to help me in the 
matter,” he declared, “I may as well make a clean 
breast of what I know.” 

Alan nodded, and neither refused or agreed to 
accept the man as his client, but intimated that he 
was ready to give his attention to the confession. 
Morad-Bakche at once took exception to the word. 

“It is not a confession I wish to make, sir, but 
merely a statement to show how I came to learn 
about the matter we are discussing.” 

“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Fuller ceremo- 
niously, “go on please !” 

Bakche frowned at the irony of his tone, but made 
no further objection to relating what he knew. 

“My explanation as to how I came to Thimble 
Square was not wholly true, Mr. Fuller,” he said 
abruptly. 

“So I thought at the time ?” 

“Why did you think so?” asked Bakche quickly. 

“Because I got it into my head that you were after 
the Inderwick fetish, although when* you spoke I 
did not know that it was the Begum of Kam who 
had given away the jewels. That fact I learned 
later. However, it struck me that if you had come 


190 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


on some such errand, you went for that reason to 
Miss Orison’s boarding-house, and not because your 
Ceylon friend recommended it.” 

Bakche nodded. “Very creditable to your in- 
telligence,” he said in a patronising manner. “To 
be plain, sir, I learned the story which is set forth in 
the newspaper, from some family documents.” 

“As I thought,” murmured Fuller softly. 

“Seeing that the Begum had given away jewels 
which should rightfully belong to the family I de- 
termined to find them. I came to England and 
went to Belstone, where the documents I mentioned 
informed me the Inderwicks lived. At the inn there 
I learned from a very voluble woman all that was to 
be known about the loss of the peacock. . . After- 
wards I visited Mr. Sorley, who is, I understand, 
the guardian of Miss Inderwick, to whom the pea- 
cock is supposed to belong. He told me that the 
ornament was lost, but he did not say who had taken 
it from The Monastery.” 

“Quite so,” said Alan, remembering that Sorley 
had withheld such information lest Miss Grison 
should give the peacock to the man; “but of course 
Mrs. Verwin at the inn hinted that the Grisons had 
the bird.” 

“She did, sir and what is more she gave me the 
address of the boarding-house in Thimble Square. 
I returned to London in July last and took up my 
abode there, determined to learn all that I could.” 

“Well?” asked Fuller, when the Indian paused. 

“Well,” echoed the other, “I learned nothing 
particular.” 

“Hum!” remarked Alan doubtfully, and looking 
hard at the speaker, “did you tell Miss Grison the 
story of your search?” 

“Yes I did, at a later period when I had become 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


191 


more or less friendly with her. I even stated that 
it was reported how she and her brother had stolen 
the peacock.” 

‘‘What answer did she make ?” 

“She said nothing to the purpose, only stating 
that she believed there was such an ornament, but 
that she did not know where it was. Of course in 
the light of this interview,” added Bakche, placing 
his hand on the newspaper, “you can see that for her 
own ends she spoke falsely. Evidently Baldwin, her 
brother, was the thief, and possessed it the whole 
time. The wonder is, Mr. Fuller, that being des- 
perately hard up as he was, he did not sell or pawn 
the peacock.” 

“I rather think that the man hoped to learn the 
secret and get possession of the jewels. Did you 
ever see Grison?” 

“No,” said Bakche so quickly that Alan felt sure 
he was not speaking the exact truth, and became 
more sure of the fact when he elaborated his denial. 
“Miss Grison refused to give me her brother’s 
address, which I knew was in some slum. And of 
course, not guessing that Grison had the peacock, 
I did not push my enquiries. Had I known that he 
had the bird I should have placed the matter in the 
hands of a private detective, and in some way I 
should have learned his whereabouts.” 

“And then ?” 

“Then,” said Bakche, drawing a deep breath and 
clenching his small hands, “I should have forced 
him to surrender it to me.” 

“You would have used violence?” asked Alan in 
a peculiar tone. 

“Yes! That is ” Bakche broke off with a 

laugh of contempt. “Why do you look at me so 
^spiciously, Mr. Funer? Do you think that I did 


192 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


see the man and did use violence even to the extent 
of stabbing him? You are entirely wrong, sir. Had 
I murdered him and obtained the peacock I should 
by this time have been far away on the Continent 
out of danger, and until things grew quieter, I 
should have remained absent trying to solve the rid- 
dle. I am not the criminal, and I am not the posses- 
sor of the peacock.” 

'‘I grant that,” said Fuller quietly, who knew well 
that the man spoke the truth, since Sorley owned the 
bird at that moment. “Well, and what do you expect 
me to do, Mr. Bakche ?” 

“I wish you to find out who murdered Grison, so 
that the peacock may be recovered and handed over 
to me.” 

“On behalf of Miss Inderwick I am doing that,” 
said Alan dryly, “so I cannot possibly act on your 
behalf.” 

“The peacock is mine,” cried the Indian, rising to 
his feet with a snarl which again reminded Fuller of 
his tigerish nature. 

“The peacock is Miss Inderwick’s, and should I 
find it, I shall hand it over to her so that she may 
discover the treasure.” 

“You are ” began Bakche violently, then 

suddenly and dangerously restrained his anger and 
smiled meaningly. “Well, since you are engaged to 
the lady, it is natural that you should want her to 
gain the jewels ” 

“Mr. Bakche, stop that if you please.” Alan rose 
in his turn with indignant looks. 

The. Indian shrugged his shoulders and walked to 
the door. “It is a duel between us>” he said 
smoothly, “you want what I want, so we shall see 
who wins. And I can tell you what is your best step 
to take.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 193 


“Very kind of you, Mr. Bakche. And that 
is ” 

“To find the boy Alonzo, formerly called Jotty. 
He knows the truth.'’ 

“Then why not question him, since he is at Miss 
Orison’s house?” 

“Indeed he is not; Jotty has been missing since 
last night!” and refusing to explain further, the 
Indian departed, leaving Fuller greatly astonished 
and greatly annoyed also, that the boy should have 
disappeared. 


CHAPTER XIII 


AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR 

Dicky's remark when he brought news of the Ro- 
therhithe crime, that there were more romantic than 
commonplace events to be found in present-day life, 
seemed to be verified by what had taken place. A 
hidden treasure, a riddle in gems and gold, a mys- 
terious murder, a melodramatic Indian, and the 
necessary pair of lovers to spice the whole — these 
were certainly details out of which to weave a tale 
worthy of more highly-colored days. And Destiny 
who was relating the story to an interested world 
was doing her best to involve her characters in 
a whirl of unhappy things. For even if Sorley were 
arrested and confessed his guilt and suffered punish- 
ment, the story — as Alan considered — would by no 
means be ended, since the jewels had to be dis- 
covered and detained from the clutch of Morad- 
Bakche. Marie had to be comforted and married, 
and Miss Grison — the Ate of the tale — had to be ap- 
peased. There was a great deal yet to be done 
before things could be settled, and Fuller, as the 
hero of Fate’s fiction, felt that he ought to do some- 
thing towards bringing about a necessary climax. 
But as yet he could not see his way to do anything. 

And to make matters worse, Latimer next day 
arrived with the news that Sorley had disappeared. 
On the previous day Inspector Moon had been duly 
told the story, and the evidence of Sorley’s com- 
plicity had been placed under his official eye. With 
the joyful feeling that here was a case which would 
reflect credit on him if dexterously managed. Moon 
procured a warrant, and took the night train to 
194 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 195 


Lewes. About midnight he arrived at The Monas- 
tery, only to learn that Sorley had gone away early 
in the day, and neither Marie, nor the three Trents, 
were able to tell the inspector whither he had de- 
parted. Hastily packing a small bag, and wearing 
an unpretentious tweed suit, the suspected man had 
vanished from The Monastery and Belstone on his 
motor bicycle. Moon, having acted immediately on 
Latimer’s information, was furious at the escape, 
and could not understand how the man had been 
warned. Henny Trent however threw some light 
on the darkness of this point by stating that Mr. 
Sorley had been visited by a small boy with light 
hair and blue eyes. The urchin had not been seen 
since the departure of Marie’s uncle, so it was pre- 
sumed that he had left earlier. In disgust at his 
bad luck. Moon installed an officer in the house to 
watch for the possible return of Sorley, and had 
come back in the morning to London, where he 
informed Dick that the bird had flown. Now Lati- 
mer had come in the afternoon to the Chancery Lane 
office to explain to his friend. 

Alan was much surprised to hear that Sorley had 
been warned, and from a suspicious look in Dick’s 
eyes fancied that Latimer suspected him. ‘T did 
not break my promise,” he protested sharply and 
stiffly and unasked. 

‘"No one suggested that you did,” growled the 
reporter, who was annoyed that the criminal — as he 
truly considered Sorley — had escaped. 

'‘Your eyes suggest quite enough,” retorted Ful- 
ler, hurt by the suspicion, "and you should know 
me better, Dick, than to think that I broke faith.” 

Latimer flushed. "I’m sorry, Alan, but I really 
did have some such thought, although I see now 
that it was unwarranted. But you had every temp- 


196 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


tation to save the man, seeing that he is Miss Inder- 
wick’s uncle.” 

“You should have known me better,” persisted 
Fuller stubbornly. “I gave my promise, and I kept it” 

“I am sure you did.” Latimer extended his 
hand. “Forgive me Alan.” 

The other gripped it. “Of course. A vague 
suspicion such as you have entertained won’t spoil 
our friendship. And yet, Dick,” he added, when 
they had both cooled down, “I am not exactly sur- 
prised, now I think over Bakche’s last words.” 

“Bakche, the Indian? Has he been to see you?” 

“Yesterday. He came as a client, and confessed 
much of what we already know.” 

“Then my sixth sense ? ” 

“Oh, hang your sixth sense. We agreed that it 
was right when I related Mrs. Verwin’s story. 
Bakche’s yarn is merely corroborative. He did find 
the history of the peacock in some family papers, 
and did come to look up Belstone village to see if 
he could get the peacock and find the treasure, and 
yesterday he came to me to ask if I would engineer 
the job.” 

“Hum! You refused, I expect.” 

“I should jolly well think so, Dicky. Bakche 
claims the treasure, as he says that the Begum of 
Kam had no right to give it away. He wants to 
find the assassin of Grison, and recover the bird and 
read the riddle.” 

“Does he know that Sorley is the culprit?” 

“He didn’t yesterday, whatever he knows now. 
I declined to receive him as a client saying that I 
was working for Marie, and intended to give her 
the treasure when it was discovered.” 

“Will it ever be discovered?” questioned Latimer 
skeptically. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


197 


Alan sighed. “Lord knows ! I have been trying 
my hardest to read some meaning into the sketch 
I made, but so far I have failed.” 

“We’ll have a look at it together,” said Dick 
encouragingly, “my sixth sense may help you where 
others have not been able to arrive at any conclu- 
sion. I owe you that much for having suspected 
you had broken faith with me, even for a moment,” 
and Dick looked very repentant. 

“Oh, that’s all right, old man,” said Alan heartily 
“seeing that I love Marie so much it was natural 
you should credit me with trying to spare her pain 
by getting her uncle saved. But I thought it was 
best to let the law take its course, as in any case if 
he was saved now, he would only be discovered and 
arrested later on.” 

“I suppose you and Bakche are enemies now?” 

“He gave me to understand that he would do his 
best to get the better of me,” remarked Fuller a 
trifle dryly, “and then like a fool, he gave me a 
hint as to who knew the truth.” 

“I don’t think I should take that hint coming from 
such a quarter,” said Dick reflectively, “who knows 
the truth according to Bakche?” 

“Jotty !” 

“H’m. He may be right after all, although it 
is odd he should give you a chance to outrun him 
in this way. I always did think that Jotty knew 
more than was good for him. Of course he gave 
Sorley warning.” 

“Of course,” assented Fuller quickly; “only 
Jotty could have been the blue-eyed, fair-haired lad, 
who called to see the man. He disappeared from 
Thimble Square, as Bakche told me, the day before 
yesterday, so I expect he saw the news about the 
peacock in that paper, and bolted to warn Sorley.” 


198 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘‘But why should he do that?” asked Latimer 
with a puzzled air; ^‘he evidently told Miss Grison 
— guessing the fact from the drawing you showed 
him — that Sorley had the bird. And on account 
of that, Miss Grison related what she did to the 
interviewer. But I can’t understand why Jotty 
having brought about the trouble, should try to save 
Sorley from it.” 

Alan shook his head. ‘‘It is impossible to say, 
unless we can get hold of the boy again and make 
him speak out. He may return to Miss Grison ” 

“No,” said Dick decisively, “he won’t. She has 
done her best to get Sorley into trouble, and won’t 
thank Jotty for giving him warning. I wonder 
where he has gone?” 

“Jotty ?” 

“And Sorley; both of them. Moon has left a 
detective at The Monastery on the off-chance that 
Miss Inderwick’s uncle may return. But I don’t 
think he will. Probably he has taken those jewels 
of his own, you spoke of, and has left the country.” 

“It looks as though he were guilty,” observed 
Alan with a groan. 

“It does,” assented Latimer quickly; “but it 
is just as well that he has got away, and so avoided 
arrest and trial, and probably hanging. I don’t ex- 
pect you’ll set eyes on him again or on Jotty 
either, as maybe he has taken the lad with him.” 

“Why should he do that?” 

“Jotty — as I always suspected — knows too much, 
and Sorley wants to get him out of the way.” 

“It is too late,” replied Fuller doubtfully. “Jotty 
has given us the letter, and has told us enough to 
hang Sorley unless the man has a very good defence. 
Probably he hasn’t any, else he would have stood 
his ground. Oh, my poor Marie, how dreadful it 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


199 


is for you to have a criminal for an uncle.” 

Dick patted Alan’s shoulder. ‘‘See here, old son,” 
he remarked with rough sympathy, “I was annoyed 
when I heard that the man had bolted. Now I am 
very glad for your sake. As I said you won’t hear 
of Sorley again. So go to work and solve the riddle 
of the peacock ; marry Marie and tell Bakche he can 
go back to India with his tail between his legs.” 

“But Sorley has probably taken the bird with him.” 

“What does that matter? You have the drawing, 
and can solve the riddle from that, as you have 
always expected to do. The mystery of Grison’s 
death is an open secret now, Alan, my boy, so let 
the past bury itself, and look forward to your mar- 
riage with the girl, and possession of the treasure.” 

Fuller nodded in an absent-minded way, but did 
not reply. Before he could make up his mind what 
to say, there came a knock at the door, and Seymour, 
who was the solicitor’s one and only clerk, appeared 
with the intelligence that a lady wished to see his 
employer. Thinking that this was a client, Latimer 
moved into the outer office, only to come face to 
face with Marie. The girl looked ill, and all the 
bright color of her face had faded to a dull white, 
while there were dark circles under her eyes. 

“Miss Inderwick,” cried Dick in amazement, and, 
on hearing the name, Alan appeared at the door with 
a look of equal astonishment. The last thing in the 
world expected by either man was the visit to 
London of Marie. 

“My dear girl, what are you doing here?” ques- 
tioned Alan in tones of alarm when he saw her pale 
face and anxious eyes. “Come in, Dick, close the 
door,” and shortly the three were in the private office, 
and Seymour had received orders to admit no one. 

“I had to come up, Alan,” said Marie, clinging to 


200 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


his sleeve. “Oh, my dear, it is dreadful. Last night 
a policeman came with others, and they say that 
Uncle Ran murdered Mr. Orison. But it’s not true, 
I am sure it is not true,” and Marie burst into tears. 

“I can’t say if it is or not, dear,” replied Alan 
uneasily, and kneeling by the side of the chair she 
dropped into. “But — but Mr. Sorley has not been 
arrested has he ?” 

“No,” wailed Marie, “and that is what makes me 
so afraid. Some boy came in the afternoon, and 
Uncle Ran went away on the motor bicycle, after 
giving me twenty pounds and saying that he would 
not return for a few days. The boy left the house 
also; I suppose so, although neither I nor Henny 
nor Granny nor Jenny saw him go. If Uncle Ran 
were innocent he wouldn’t run away. I’m sure. Oh, 
Alan, what is to be done? I can’t stay in the 
house, and as I had the money I came up to ask your 
advice.” 

“Dear,” said Fuller, placing his arm around her 
waist tenderly, “the best thing for you to do is to 
return to The Monastery and wait.” 

“But I’m all by myself Alan, and that horrid 
detective person is staying in the house. I can’t 
stop on there alone.” 

“The girls and their grandmother are there, 
darling.” 

“Oh, but what use are they. I want you,” she 
leaned her head on his shoulder, weeping profusely. 

“But I can’t come and stop in The Monastery 
while your uncle is away, my dearest girl,” cried 
Alan much distressed; “people would talk. Sup- 
pose you go and stay with my mother for a time.” 

“But if I did I should have to tell her the truth,” 
wept Marie ; “and how can I say that Uncle Ran did 
what he didn’t do.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


201 


“It has to come out sooner or later, Miss Inder- 
wick,” remarked Dick in a voice full of regret, 
for the girl’s tears made him feel ashamed of hav- 
ing brought about the catastrophe. 

“What has to come out?” 

“The fact that Mr. Sorley murdered ” 

Marie sprang to her feet and the color flew to her 
wan cheeks. “I don’t believe it; I don’t, I don’t, I 
don’t,” she said almost fiercely. “Uncle Ran has 
his faults, and never did care much for me, besides 
using my income and being nasty to Alan because 
he loved me. But he would never kill anyone, I 
am sure, Mr. Latimer. What Miss Grison says in 
that paper is a lie.” 

“Oh,” cried Fuller quickly, “you saw that paper?” 

“Yes; The Latest News! That boy brought it 
to Uncle Ran, for I saw him give it through the 
window of the library while I was walking on the 
terrace. Uncle Ran left it behind in his hurry, 
and ” 

“He left in a hurry?” asked Dick suddenly. 

“Yes. He told me that he had received bad news 
and would be away for a time and that I was to use 
the money — the twenty pounds I mean — to keep 
things going.” 

“Did he say anything about returning?” 

“No. He was in such a hurry that he had no 
time to say much. And then very late at night 
there was a ring at the door, and Henny went down 
to find a man with another man who said they had 
come to arrest Uncle Ran for murder. I had to get 
up and answer questions, and then one man went 
away while the other stayed. He’s at The Monas- 
tery now,” cried Marie with a fresh burst of tears, 
“and I haven’t been in bed all night. Henny made 
me lie down for a time this morning, and then I 


202 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


came up by the midday train to see you, Alan. Oh, 
what does it all mean ?” 

Alan glanced at his friend, for the situation was 
very painful. He opened his mouth to speak, but 
could not, while Marie looked at him so appealingly. 
Dick, more hardened to the world, and not being in 
love, solved the question, as to frank speech or 
silence. 

‘^Miss Inderwick,” he said bluntly, ‘‘believe me I 
am very sorry for you in every way, but it is just as 
well that you should know the truth. What Miss 
Grison says in that interview is true. The holder of 
the peacock is the person who murdered Grison for 
its possession.” 

“But not Uncle Ran, not Uncle Ran!” she 
pleaded anxiously. 

“I fear so,” said Latimer turning away his head ; 
“he has the peacock.” 

“It’s not true, it’s not true, Alan ” 

“I fear it is, Marie,” said the young man sadly. 
“I saw the peacock myself in your uncle’s hands 
when I was down at Belstone for Christmas.” 

“Oh ! and you never told me.” 

“I did not wish you to learn the truth, and tried 
to keep it from you. But since the matter has been 
made public, you have become acquainted with what 
has happened, and the flight of Mr. Sorley seems to 
suggest a guilty conscience. I hope he is innocent, 
but ” 

“He is innocent,” interrupted Marie with the 
tears streaming down her face ; “nothing will ever 
make me believe that Uncle Ran murdered anyone. 
How did he account for possession of the peacock?” 

“He declared that Miss Grison must have left it 
in the cupboard where it had been stored twenty 
years ago.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 203* 


‘‘On that occasion when she came and walked all 
over the house; when we found her sitting in the 
library?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well then,” said Marie triumphantly, “Uncle 
Ran is innocent, and Miss Grison is a wicked woman 
to say that whosoever holds the peacock mur- 
dered her brother, since she had herself ” 

“But, Miss Inderwick,” broke in Dick, “we can- 
not be sure if Mr. Sorley’s explanation is a true one.” 

“It is; I am sure it is. But what does Miss 
Grison say?” 

“We have not questioned her yet.” 

“Then I shall question her,” cried Marie, start- 
ing to her feet with a very determined air, “she 
shall confess to me that she brought the peacock to 
The Monastery so as to get Uncle Ran into trouble. 
She always hated him, and you heard yourself, 
Alan, what she said on that day. She is mad, she is 
mad. Uncle Ran said as much, and now I quite be- 
lieve him.” 

“Dear Marie,” said Fuller, taking her hand, “let 
us hope for the best. You may be certain that for 
your sake I shall do my best to prove your uncle’s 
innocence. But there is no doubt that the evidence 
against him is very strong, and his flight seems to 
prove that the charge is true.” 

“I don’t believe it,” said Miss Inderwick obsti- 
nately, and sitting down again to tap a vexed foot on 
the ground. “Uncle Ran will come back again with 
an explanation. I’m sure he will.” 

“Let us hope so,” murmured Latimer skeptically; 
“but I doubt it.” 

“As to the evidence against him — what is it, 
Alan?” 

He told her, relating Jotty’s discovery of the let- 


204 the peacock of jewels 


ter, and showed her a copy of the same, which he 
had taken before Dick passed on the original to In- 
spector Moon. ‘‘So you see, Marie,” he ended, 
when she was in full possession of the painful facts, 
“that it seems almost certain ” 

“I don’t care what it seems,” interrupted Marie 
in her wilful feminine way, “Uncle Ran never 
murdered that wretched Grison.” 

“Then why didn’t he remain and say so?” asked 
Dick sharply. 

“He will explain that when he returns,” she re- 
torted in a lofty tone. “In the meantime we must 
learn the truth.” 

“We know the truth,” Latimer replied. 

Marie stamped. “How horrid of you to take it 
for granted that Uncle Ran killed this man. I say 
he didn’t, and nothing you say, or Alan says, will 
convince me that he did.” 

“I say nothing,” put in Fuller quickly ; “things 
look black against Mr. Sorley, but I wish to give him 
the benefit of the doubt.” 

Marie flew at him and threw her arms round his 
neck. “Bless you, Alan, for the words you have 
spoken. I am not very fond of Uncle Ran as you 
know, but I am sure he is innocent and you must try 
and prove his innocence.” 

“I shall do my best, darling, if you will leave the 
matter in my hands and return to Belstone.” 

“No, Alan don’t ask me to. I want to go down 
to Rotherhithe.” 

“What for ?” asked Dick surprised. 

Marie looked at him disdainfully, for she gathered 
very plainly that he was not on her side. “To ask 
questions of that woman who keeps the house where 
Mr. Grison was murdered.” 

‘Mother Slaig ? Oh, my dear Miss Inderwick you 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 205 


can’t go and see her. She is a virago, and her 
house is most disreputable. Besides she cannot help 
you, as she gave her evidence at the inquest— — ” 

“And didn’t accuse Uncle Ran at all,” interrupted 
Marie. “I shall get at the truth if I see her.” 

“Marie,” said Alan quickly, “you can’t go down 
to Rotherhithe.” 

“I can and I shall,” cried Miss Inderwick with 
another stamp, and looked like a small goddess of 
war. “Uncle Ran shan’t be hanged for what he 
never did, if I can help it.” 

“So long as he keeps away he cannot be caught 
to be hanged,” said Alan in a pacific manner, for it 
was necessary to deal in a wary manner with the 
infuriated girl. “Meanwhile I shall look into the 
matter and do my best to clear his character. If 
you go to see Mother Slaig, you may prevent Mr. 
Sorley’s innocence from being proved.” 

“But I want to help,” cried Marie, weeping again; 
“he is my uncle.” 

“You shall help,” said Alan, taking her in his 
arms, “when I know in what way you can aid us. 
Marie, doesn’t everyone in the village know about 
the accusation of your uncle, and that a detective is 
in the house?” 

“Yes. It’s horrid. Everyone is talking about it.” 

“Then you can have no hesitation in going to my 
mother and father and in laying the true facts of the 
case before them. My mother will surely ask you 
to stay at the vicarage, so remain there while I look 
into the matter, dearest. Believe me it is the best 
course to take.” 

“Then I shall do what you want me to do. But 
tell me, Alan, when it is necessary for me to come 
into the matter. I must have a hand in proving the 
innocence of Uncle Ran.” 


2o6 the peacock of JEWELS 


"‘I promise you, that as soon as I require your 
aid I shall ask for it.’' 

Satisfied with this promise, Marie dried her tears, 
and then asked Alan to get her something to eat, 
as she was very hungry, and it was now close on 
five o’clock. Her lover put on his hat and coat and 
took her out to a restaurant near at hand, where 
she made a fairly good meal. Dick came with them, 
as he did not wish Marie to go away with the im- 
pression that he was hostile to the accused man. 

‘^Believe me. Miss Inderwick,” he said when 
they were at the table, “no one will be more pleased 
to hear of your uncle’s innocence than I shall be.” 

“You believe that he is guilty?” 

“Well, the facts are against him, but I shall adopt 
Alan’s line and give him the benefit of the doubt. 
When we face Miss Grison she may exonerate 
him. It is not likely, since she hates him for some 
reason, but ” 

“She won’t, she won’t; and I don’t care if she 
doesn’t, Mr. Latimer. In some other way we must 
save Uncle Ran. Will you see her?” 

“This very evening,” promised Dick earnestly. 

“And so shall I,” said Alan suddenly. “Hope for 
the best, darling.” 

“Yes,” sobbed Marie, who felt better after her 
meal, but still was unable to restrain her tears, for 
the poor girl was greatly shaken, “but is it not terri- 
ble, Alan?” 

“Very, my dear. But you must be a heroine and 
keep up, for your uncle’s sake. Now we must take 
a taxi to Victoria, and you can catch the something 
after six train to Lewes. There is one about this 
time, I know. Have you enough money to take a 
fly to Belstone, dear. No, don’t take a fly. On 
second thoughts I shall wire to my father to 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 207 


send his trap to meet you; that will be best.” 

‘"But the trouble, Alan,” faltered the girl as he 
handed her into the taxi. 

‘‘It’s no trouble. Dick, will you come, or ” 

“I am coming of course,” said Dick, bestowing his 
burly form in the taxi. “I don’t want Miss Inder- 
wick to go away with the idea that I’m a beast.” 

“I’m sure I never said so,” sighed Marie, “and 
if I was rude, Mr. Latimer, you must put it down 
to my being so upset.” 

“My dear young lady, you are right to stand up 
for your uncle, and I have nothing but praise for 
your conduct. With all my heart I trust that he 
will return again to face the accusation and prove 
his innocence.” 

“Thank you,” replied Marie softly, and gave him 
her hand. Then she sat close to her lover, and the 
three spoke very little until the station was reached. 
Here Alan sent a telegram to his father, and placed 
the girl in the train. He bought her a first-class 
ticket, and asked the guard to look after her com- 
fort, as he did not like the idea of such an unso- 
phisticated damsel travelling all alone. Her freak 
of coming to London so unexpectedly, though 
natural enough under the circumstances, caused him 
great anxiety, and he heaved a sigh of relief when 
the train steamed out of the station. Marie would 
be looked after by the guard as far as Lewes, and 
then the Rev. John Fuller would meet her and take 
the stray lamb to the vicarage, where his wife would 
console her. Dick laughed when he heard his wor- 
ried friend sigh so thankfully. 

“All’s well that ends well, my son,” he said, 
clapping the young man on the back, “and Miss 
Inderwick has behaved like a heroine.” 

“I daresay ; but I hope she won’t come to London 


2o8 the peacock of JEWELS 


again, as she is not used to being by herself, and 
may get into trouble.” 

^‘She certainly will,” said Dick grimly, ‘‘if she 
goes to see Mother Slaig in that Rotherhithe slum.” 

‘‘Oh, I shall see to it that she does not go. Well, 
I am tired, Dick. Are you coming home, or have 
you business to attend to?” 

“I’m coming with you,” responded the big man, 
affectionately, taking out his pipe, as the presence 
of Marie had hitherto prevented his indulging in 
a smoke, and he felt the need of the soothing weed. 
“I have nothing to do this evening — nothing par- 
ticular that is — so I may as well have a few quiet 
hours at home, and talk this case over with you.” 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Well, I don’t know. It seems to me that the 
Indian is mixed up in the business somehow. From 
what you describe I believe that he guessed Baldwin 
Grison had the peacock.” 

“I thought so myself, but then if he had killed 
the man and got the peacock he wouldn’t have sent 
it to Sorley.” 

On the way to Fleet Street and Barker’s Inn they 
went over the same old ground, but without coming 
to any definite conclusion. Besides the strain of 
the last few days was telling on both men, and they 
felt very weary. It was with a sigh of relief that 
they arrived at the dark cobblestone court and 
mounted the crooked staircase. Alan used his latch- 
key and admitted both himself and Dick into their 
chambers. When they entered the sitting-room 
they received a surprise and a shock. In a chair 
by the fire sat a figure, and in a moment he was 
recognized in spite of his shabby looks. 

“Mr. Sorley!” cried Alan and Dick in a breath. 


CHAPTER Xiy 


FACE TO FACE 

It was indeed Mr. Randolph Vernon Sorley who 
spread out his hands to the fire in a crouching atti- 
tude, but woefully changed from the debonair and 
juvenile gentleman of former days. His aggres- 
sively shabby overcoat and worn boots showed that 
he had some idea of disguising himself, since he had 
both money and clothes at his command to dress 
better. He was unshaven, his cheeks and chin 
being covered with a silvery stubble, and in his 
sunken eyes there lurked a hunted look. The man 
looked both broken up and broken down, and had 
aged at least twenty years since Alan had last set 
eyes on him. The terror he displayed when the 
young man entered the room showed ihow apprehen- 
sive he was of being arrested by the police. 

‘^Oh, it’s you, Alan,” he gasped with a sigh of 
relief, when the newcomers, in sheer surprise, oalled 
out his name. ‘T’m glad it’s only you and your 
friend.” 

‘T am Fuller’s friend,” remarked Latimer with 
emphasis, ‘Tut not yours.” 

“Ah!” Sorley shivered and cringed fearfully, 
“you’re against me too. Am I to find an enemy 
in you also, Alan?” 

“No,” said the young man briefly; “I never kick 
a man when he is down.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, Alan, for I am very down 
indeed. A few days ago and I could hold up my 
head with the best ; now I am hunted for a crime.” 

“If you are guilty ” 

“I swear I am not,” interrupted Sorley, his 
209 


210 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


voice rising to a scream, ‘'on my soul I swear to 
both of you that I am not/’ 

“Then why did you run away?” asked Dick. 

“Because, after reading the newspaper interview 
with that vile woman, I saw that appearances were 
against me. I fled to gain time.” 

“Time for what, Mr. Sorley?” 

“To prepare a defence.” 

“Oh,” said Latimer doubtfully and staring at the 
limp figure of the fugitive, “then you have a defence.” 

“Yes — that is, I can — I can — oh, Alan,” wailed 
Sorley piteously, “in heaven’s name give me some 
wine or brandy. I have scarcely touched food since 
I left Belstone, and I am that weak I can scarcely 
speak. Give me drink and food, then we can talk.” 

Fuller nodded silently, and went to a cupboard, 
whence he brought out a loaf of bread, some but- 
ter, and a jar of pate de foie gras, which had been 
given to Dick by a friend, together with a bottle of 
good port wine. The hunted man, who had sought 
the sanctuary of their hearthstone, staggered to the 
table and began to eat and drink with avidity. Both 
men pitied the unfortunate creature, whose arro- 
gance had been thus laid low. Whether he was 
innocent or guilty they could not say on what evi- 
dence they possessed; but it seemed terrible that a 
gentleman should be brought to such a sordid pass. 
While Sorley methodically filled himself with food, 
there was silence for quite a long time. Alan 
finally broke it. 

“Why did you come here?” he asked abruptly. 

“I want you to help me,” mumbled Sorley hastily. 

“How can I help you, man? You know that 
there is a warrant out for your arrest, so if either 
Latimer or I assist you to escape we shall be com- 
pounding a felony.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 211 


never asked for your assistance to escape,” 
retorted Sorley tartly, and in a stronger tone, for 
the food and drink had put life into him. 

‘Then why did you come here?” asked Alan 
again, and stiffening, as the old arrogance was per- 
ceptible in the man’s tone. 

“I have told you ; I want help.” 

“What sort of help?” 

“To prove my innocence.” 

“How can I, or how can Latimer? We know; 
nothing.” 

T think you know a great deal,” returned the 
other acidly, and shuffled to the fire again, as the 
night was chilly and he required warmth; “from 
what Jotty told me, you brought about my arrest.” 

“Pardon me, Mr. Sorley,” struck in Dick before 
his friend could speak, “but I am the one who did 
that. Since you have seen Jotty you must know 
that he found the letter which you wrote making 
an appointment with Orison on the very night and 
about the very time when the poor devil was killed. 
He showed that letter to us, and Alan was all in 
favor of leaving the matter alone, since he has some 
sympathy for you as the uncle of Miss Inderwick. 
But I declined to compound a felony, and I went to In- 
spector Moon to explain that you were the criminal.” 

“I am not the criminal,” cried Sorley furiously. 
“I did not murder the man. As to Jotty showing 
you my letter ” 

“Then you admit the letter?” demanded Dick 
swiftly. 

“Certainly I do. Why should I not? But the 
boy never told me that he had acted in such a Judas 
way. He came down to see me with a copy of 
The Latest News in his pocket, and when I read 
the interview I went away on the impulse of the mo- 


212 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


ment, recognizing how dangerous was my position.’’ 

“Why did the boy go to warn you?” 

“Because he wanted money. Didn’t he get money 
for giving up that letter?” 

“Yes,” answered Alan readily; “two pounds.” 

“He received five from me for bringing down 
the newspaper,” said Sorley in a hasty tone, “he sold 
me to you, and later he sold you to me. You ex- 
pected to have me arrested, but the boy’s warning 
enabled me to escape. It is all a question of money. 
Jotty, as I knew and Grison knew, would sell his 
soul for gold.” 

“Where is the boy now ?” asked Dick suddenly, 
and watching Sorley through half-closed eyes. 

“I don’t know. He got his price and left The 
Monastery, shortly before I went away on my 
motor bicycle. He may have gone back to Miss 
Grison for all I know.” 

“I don’t think that is likely,” said Alan dryly, 
“since she hates you, and will not be pleased if sne 
finds out — as she must have done by this time — 
that Jotty has thwarted her revenge.” 

“There you are, there you are,” cried Sorley, 
greatly excited and gesticulating vehemently, “that 
beastly woman hates me. It is she who has got me 
into this trouble. What did I tell you, Alan, what 
did I tell you? That she had some reason for 
bringing back the peacock and leaving it in its old 
place. Now you see the reason; she wished to im- 
plicate me in the death of her infernal brother.” 

“Did she really bring back the peacock?” was 
Dick’s question. 

“Yes, she did; I swear that she must have brought 
it back on the day she came unexpectedly to The 
Monastery and walked — as I learned later — all over 
the house. It’s a trap — a trap I tell you. I am 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 213 


innocent; oh yes, I am innocent as a child unborn, 
but she is doing her best to put a rope round my 
neck. What are her words in the interview. ‘Find 
the peacock and you find the assassin of my broth- 
er!’ Those are her words, because she knew that 
I had the bird, and that the mere possession could 
hang me. Oh, the devil, the cruel vampire that she 
is!” and he trembled with rage and terror. 

“But there is not only the peacock to be consid- 
ered, Mr. Sorley,” put in Latimer, struck by the 
vehemence of this defence, and wondering if the 
man was really innocent after all. “The letter ” 

“I wrote the letter,” admitted Sorley swiftly, 
“and — but one moment Mr. Latimer, you had better 
present me with a full statement of the evidence 
upon which you and the police base your charges 
against me. Then I shall be able to defend myself.” 

“I hope so, sincerely,” murmured Alan, who sat 
back in his chair with folded arms, and allowed 
Dick to conduct the conversation. 

The journalist wasted no time in preliminary 
explanations, but bluntly set forth the whole story 
from the time he had entered that very room in 
November to report the murder, down to the mo- 
ment when Marie departed from the Victoria sta- 
tion for Belstone via Lewes. Sorley still crouch- 
ing and still haggard in looks, though stronger in 
voice, listened intently, but did not interrupt. Alan 
noticed, however, that at certain portions of the 
recital he trembled, probably from overstrained 
nerves. When Dick ended, and relighted his pipe, 
the old man nodded gravely. 

“I am indeed in a dangerous position,” he said, 
striving to steady a voice that would quiver with 
ill-concealed alarm, “all the same I am entirely 
innocent. I swear to it.” 


214 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


''A judge and jury will not believe in such swear- 
ing without proof,” said Fuller, shaking his head. 

“Proof! Proof! What proof can I give? Only 
Louisa Grison can prove that the peacock was 
brought to The Monastery without my knowledge, 
and she hates me too greatly to confess as much. 
Do you think,” cried Sorley bitterly, “that she will 
spoil the trap she has set? Not she. I know her 
venomous nature too well.” 

“There’s the letter, you know,” Dick reminded him. 

“Yes! The letter. I don’t deny the letter, which 
that Judas of a boy showed to you. He be- 
trayed me ” 

“And he saved you,” interpolated Alan quickly. 

“For money in both cases,” sneered the other, “if 
the truth is to be found that lad knows it. If so, he 
is aware that I am guiltless, and thus he may have 
come to warn me because his conscience smote him.” 

“I scarcely think that Jotty is sufficiently evolved 
to possess a conscience,” said Latimer dryly; “he 
helped you for the five pounds, as he betrayed you 
for the two pounds. It is all a question of money. 
But since you insist so strongly upon your inno- 
cence, Mr. Sorley, I should like to hear on what 
grounds you do so.” 

“On the grounds that Miss Grison brought the 
bird to ” 

“Yes, yes; but the letter; your presence at 
Rotherhithe on the night and about the time the 
crime was committed?” put in Alan hastily, for he 
felt that they were losing time. 

The old man was silent for a few moments, and 
his fingers played in a senile manner on his un- 
shaven chin. Then he appeared to gain a sudden 
strength from the steady looks of his companions, 
and spoke with some dignity and considerable 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 215 


strength. make an admission to you both/’ he 
said in a surprisingly clear tone. “I knew that 
Grison had the peacock.” 

“Oh!” said the listeners simultaneously, and 
looked at one another, wondering if Sorley was 
about to confess his guilt. The man saw this and 
smiled in a sardonic manner. 

“If I were what you suppose me to be,” he said 
coldly, “I should scarcely admit as much ; but being 
innocent, I can do so. For many years I believed 
that Louisa Grison had stolen the peacock out of 
revenge, because I dismissed her brother.” Alan 
nodded at this point, as he had heard the woman 
acknowledge as much, but did not interrupt. “It 
was twelve months ago when I became aware that 
Grison possessed it. He wrote me a letter saying 
that he could not live long, and was ready to give 
up the peacock on condition that I came to hear on 
what terms he was prepared to surrender it. I 
went up to town and to Rotherhithe to that dreadful 
woman’s house.” 

“Mother Slaig’s, I suppose. Did you ride your 
motor bicycle?” 

“No, I did not have it twelve months ago,” said 
Sorley quickly. “I went up and found Grison better 
than I expected. He had rallied since writing to 
me, and refused when we met, to give up the pea- 
cock. I departed, and later — in a few weeks, went 
up again, when I saw that he was very sick indeed 
with his profligate ways. He said that if I would 
promise to give his sister half of the treasure when 
it was discovered, he would hand me back the pea- 
cock. I refused, as I had no right to dispose of 
Marie’s property in that way.” 

Alan smiled grimly when he remembered how 
this scrupulous man had disposed of furniture which 


2i6 the peacock of JEWELS 


belonged to the niece whose goods he was supposed 
to safeguard. However he did not make any re- 
mark on this point, but asked a pertinent question: 
‘‘Had Grison discovered the secret?’' 

“No; he had tried to, but had failed, as every- 
one else has done up to the present,” said Sorley, 
continuing his narrative with an effort, for he ap- 
peared to be very weary. “When I refused to give 
up half the treasure he declined to restore the 
golden bird. Up till November last I continued to 
call on him and urge him to return what his sister 
had stolen, and it was because of my frequent visits 
that I purchased the motor bicycle.” 

“Ah,” said Dick, who was nursing his chin, “you 
didn’t want your visits to be known to the railway 
authorities.” 

“You are quite wrong, Mr. Latimer. If I chose 
to go up to town every now and then that was no 
business of anyone. Had I contemplated murder 
I might indeed have shirked giving color to my 
doings by travelling so often by train. But I bought 
the bicycle to save expense in one way, and because 
I found it easier to slip out of the house and up to 
town in this style.” 

“Hum!” murmured Latimer, to whom the ex- 
planation sounded weak, “we’ll admit so much for 
the time being. Well, sir?” 

“Well,” said Sorley taking no notice of the im- 
plied doubt. “I went up and down constantly. 
Sometimes Grison when sick would agree to give up 
the peacock without terms; then, when well, he 
would refuse to surrender it on any condition. Also 
sometimes he wanted half the treasure for his 
sister, since — as he put it — she had stuck by 
him in his fall. Finally, so as to get the bird and 
try to unravel the secret I compromised by of- 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 2iy 


fering to give a third of the jewels to Louisa.” 

“You had no right to promise that without sub- 
mitting the proposition to Marie,” said Alan. 

“I didn’t want Marie to know anything about the 
business until it was entirely settled and the jewels 
were in our possession,” said Sorley doggedly, “she 
never dreamed that I went so frequently to London, 
for I was often by myself for days, and had my 
meals alone. When I got the motor bicycle she and 
the other women more than ever were unable to 
learn about my movements. Things went on in this 
way until November last, and I could do nothing 
with Grison, who was as obstinate as a mule. He 
then wrote me saying that he wanted to see me on 
the evening of the thirteenth November, and this 
time would really make terms. I replied that I 
would be there at eight o’clock.” 

“Seven o’clock,” corrected Alan quickly. 

“Thank you; it was seven, but my memory is 
not so good as it was, my boy. I went up on my 
bicycle and saw Grison at the appointed time at 
Mother Slaig’s. He was as difficult to manage as 
ever, and I came away about eight, quite angry at 
my constant failures to get what I desired. I rode 
back during the night and gained The Monastery 
as usual. Next day, or rather the day after, I heard 
through the medium of the newspapers about the 
murder. Having regard to the time and place and 
my presence on the spot I saw in what danger I 
stood, so I held my peace. In one way I fancied 
that I could not be taxed with the commission of 
the crime, since I had not the peacock. Then I 
found it in its old place after the unexpected visit 
of Miss Grison, and guessed that she had brought 
it. I guessed also — since I knew that her brother 
had possessed it — she was setting a trap of some 


2i8 the peacock of JEWELS 


sort. Had I been wise,” he looked frankly at the 
young men, “I should have told the police at once 
about the matter ; but I saw then, as I see now — and 
as you, Mr. Latimer, have so plainly set before me 
that everything was in favor of my guilt.” 

Dick nodded and pulled his mustache medita- 
tively. ‘‘You didn’t improve matter by bolting 
when Jotty warned you,” he remarked pointedly. 

“I lost my nerve,” gasped the other man, his pale 
face becoming still more pale, “and on the impulse 
of the moment I fled.” 

“Why did you fly here?” asked Alan, irritated 
by the problem presented to him as to letting the 
man go, or handing him over to Inspector Moon. 

“I have told you twice, my boy ; I wish you to 
help me. Long ago I told you that I believed Louisa 
Orison was laying a trap for me with that peacock. 
Now you can see that I was right, and your evidence 
that I spoke as I did, will help me at the trial.” 

“At the trial.” Dick looked swiftly at the fugi- 
tive. “Then you ” 

“Yes; I intend to give myself up.” Sorley rose 
and stood up lean and haggard, yet with something 
of his old self-assertion, “but before doing so I wish 
you both to come with me to Thimble Square and 
see Miss Grison.” 

“Why?” demanded Fuller, jumping up with an 
inquiring look. 

“I desire to face her in your presence, and accuse 
her of having brought the peacock down to The 
Monastery to get me into trouble.” 

“But how could she get it from her brother, when 
Jotty said that he saw it on the night of the murder 
in Grison’s possession?” 

“I can’t explain,” said Sorley with a vexed air, 
“and I am sure that Louisa hates me too much to 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 219 


do so. She may have induced him to give it back, 
lest he should return it to me ; she knew of my visits.” 

‘'Did she know of your visits?” 

“She must have. Baldwin doubtless told her, for 
he never could keep his own counsel, being as weak 
as water. And if he did hold his peace, I am very 
sure that Jotty did not. The boy saw me frequently.” 

“Yes,” said Alan reflectively, “he told us that he 
did, and described you.” 

Sorley smiled bitterly and revengefully. “The 
boy seems to have given me away thoroughly. Had 
he come to me I could have paid him more than two 
pounds, and would have done so to close his mouth 
and regain that letter.” 

“It is just as well that Jotty did speak out, and 
has placed you in your present position,” said Lati- 
mer coldly, “for if Miss Grison did lay the trap 
you speak of, the exposure would only have come 
about in another way.” 

“I daresay you are right,” sighed the old man, 
putting on a shabby cap which also formed a por- 
tion of his disguise, “and after all, Jotty, by coming 
down to warn me, gave me a chance of escape.” 

“Hum!” said Alan after a pause, “your flight 
only lent color to the suspicions against you, on 
the evidence we gave to Moon. It is just probable 
since Jotty is in league with Miss Grison — for I 
believe the brat is — that the warning was arranged 
so that you should incriminate yourself.” 

“I shall do so no longer,” said Sorley opening the 
door, “come both of you with me. You need not 
fear that I shall try to escape as I quite intend to 
give myself up, knowing my complete innocence. 
If you doubt me take each of you an arm.” 

“Oh, we’ll trust you,” said Latimer with a shrug, 
much to Alan’s relief. All the same Dick intended 


220 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


to keep a sharp eye on the man, since the talk might 
be mainly for effect, and there was no knowing if 
an escape might not be attempted. 

And when the trio got outside, it proved to be a 
night very propitious to a fugitive, since an unex- 
pected fog had rolled down on the city. London 
was enveloped in a dense gray smoking cloud chilly 
and clammy, and intensely disagreeable. Alan and 
his friend had, after all, to take Sorley’s arms to 
guide him out of the court and through the rusty 
iron gates, and he went along so passively between 
them that Latimer became ashamed of his suspi- 
cions, since the old man appeared to be acting very 
straightforwardly. It was not easy even for those 
who knew the neighborhood, to get out of the laby- 
rinth surrounding Barkers Inn, for the dense fog 
made the place as unfamiliar as the desert of 
Sahara. But in some way they managed to reach 
Chancery Lane, and turned up towards Oxford 
Street on their way to Thimble Square in Blooms- 
bury. So thick was the fog that all traffic had 
ceased, although it was still early in the evening, so 
the three men, by keeping close to the houses, had 
to literally feel their way like the blind to their des- 
tination. It was a long time before they managed 
to strike the Square, and longer still before they 
found the house. But in the end they crossed 
the threshold, and told me the Swiss waiter, who 
opened the door that they wished to see Miss Ori- 
son. As the man was going upstairs, Latimer 
called him back to press a shilling into his palm. 

‘'Where is Alonzo?” he asked under his breath. 

The waiter threw up his hands and explained that 
the boy had gone away and had not returned, and 
madame was greatly vexed by his absence. “Hum !” 
said Dick to himself when the waiter finally de- 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


221 


parted to announce their arrival, ^‘Jotty seems to 
have engineered Sorley’s escape on his own account, 
and fears lest his mistress should turn crusty.’^ 

Shortly the Swiss came back and conducted them 
up the stairs and into the private room of Miss 
Grison. Looking more acid than ever she stood by 
the fireplace to receive them, but smiled in a wintry 
fashion when the two young men — who had sent 
up their names — entered. But they had — for obvi- 
ous reasons — omitted to inform her that they 
brought a companion with them, and Miss Orison’s 
face grew hard and malignant, when she saw Sor- 
ley steal in behind them. Her shallow blue eyes 
flashed like sapphires, and if looks could have killed 
her enemy, Sorley would have fallen dead that very 
instant. Hate was written all over that wasted face. 

‘'How dare you bring that beast here?” she 
demanded shrilly, yet — as Dick observed mechani- 
cally — lowered her voice lest those in the near draw- 
ing-room should overhear, “he ruined my brother 
and murdered him.” 

“It’s a lie,” said Sorley savagely, and glared 
fiercely at her. 

“Beast! beast! it’s the truth, it’s the ” she 

stopped, and her hand went to her heart suddenly, 
“My drops, my drops,” she staggered to the door, 
avoiding her enemy even at the moment of pain. 
“Wait, wait,” she breathed hurriedly to Latimer, 
“weak heart — drops — a moment — a ” she al- 

most reeled out of the room, seeking medicine to 
recover her from the shock which Sor ley’s presence 
had inflicted upon her. 

“Is her heart weak?” asked Alan, turning to the 
man. 

“Not that I ever heard of,” he retorted sharply, 
and wiping his face, “she was all right when at 


222 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


Belstone twenty years ago. Perhaps it is weak now. 
I wish it would break and she would fall dead.’’ 

'‘You mustn’t say such things, Mr. Sorley,” said 
Dick frowning. 

"But I shall. What would you say of a woman 
who ruined you?” 

"She’s not ruined you yet,” remarked Alan, 
soothingly; "if you are innocent you will be set 
free.” 

"Oh, I shall be set free all right, even if I have 
to drink poison to rid myself of my bonds,” said the 
old man, recklessly. "Oh, that woman, that woman, 
you don’t know of what she is capable. Wait till 
she returns and hear the lies she will tell. All is 
against me, and only she can prove that I did not 
take the peacock from her brother. But I am 
innocent; I swear before heaven that I am inno- 
cent.” 

"Hush ! Don’t make a row,” said Dick, who did 
not wish the house to be disturbed, and for the next 
ten minutes both he and Alan were trying to re- 
duce the excited man to a quieter frame of mind. 
Miss Grison was absent quite that time, if not a 
few moments longer, and when she returned her 
looks were much stronger and more composed. 

"Why did you bring that man here?” she de- 
manded again, and took up a defiant position on the 
hearthrug. 

"I wish to ask you a question,” said Sorley feebly, 
for his wrath had almost worn him out, and he felt 
that he was at the mercy of his enemy. 

''You ask me a question,” she echoed contemptu- 
ously, "the police wish to ask you one or two, you 
— you criminal.” 

"I — I — I am not a criminal,” panted the other, 
sitting down suddenly. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


223 


“You are. Inspector Moon has been to see me. 
He related how Mr. Latimer — and I thank Mr. 
Latimer for doing so — gave him the letter you 
wrote to Baldwin which proves that you were with 
him on that night. I know also what the police 
know, that you have the peacock which you took 
from his body, you beast!’’ 

“It’s a lie 1 a lie, Louisa, and you know it. It was 
you who brought the peacock to The Monastery 
when you came down for the funeral.” 

“Ha ! is that so ?” she said tauntingly ; “and how 
are you going to prove I did such a thing?” 

“You don’t deny it, Miss Grison?” asked Alan, 
with some sharpness. 

“Yes, I do. I deny it at once and with all truth. 
I stole the peacock to punish that brute who ruined 
us, and I gave it to Baldwin. He had it in his 
possession when he was murdered, and since he has 
it,” she pointed an accusing finger at Sorley, who 
winced and wilted, “he is guilty.” 

“You brought it to The Monastery to trap me,” 
said the man resolutely. 

“I did not,” she retorted equally resolutely, and 
the two argued the question on and on and on until 
Alan and Dick both felt their heads reeling. For 
almost an hour the conversation continued, Lati- 
mer sometimes putting in a question, and sometimes 
Alan suggesting an explanation. But every time, 
the result was that Miss Grison refused to acknowl- 
edge that she had taken the peacock to Belstone. 
Then, while they were in the full tide of talk, she 
rose unexpectedly, and pointed towards the door. 

“Come in, come in,” she almost shouted, “this 
is the beast.” 

Inspector Moon appeared, and behind him were 
two policemen in plain clothes. 


/ 


CHAPTER XV 

THE BLACK BAG 

SoRLEY shivered and shrank back when he saw the 
uniform of Inspector Moon and the two men behind 
him. Miss Orison, with an exulting look on her 
hard face, pointed to her prey, glorying in the way 
she had trapped him. And that it was a trap, Fuller 
now truly believed, since the police had appeared 
at so opportune a moment for the capture. 

‘‘There he is,” cried the woman excitedly; “take 
him away, the beast!” 

Moon moved forward and laid a heavy hand on 
the shoulder of the wretched man, who moaned and 
trembled at the fatal touch. “I arrest you, Ran- 
dolph Sorley, in the name of the King, for the 
murder of Baldwin Grison,” he said in unemotional 
tones, and reciting the regulation formula; “any- 
thing you say now will be used in evidence against 
you.” 

“I am innocent, I am innocent,” was all that 
Sorley could say. 

“And upon my soul I believe he is,” murmured 
Alan softly to Dick. 

“If so it is just as well to have the whole matter 
threshed out in a proper manner,” rejoined the re- 
porter. “How did you come here, Mr. Inspector ?” 

Miss Grison replied before the officer could open 
his mouth. “I telephoned for him,” she said 
sharply. “You thought that I left the room to take 
medicine, but it was to send for the police.” 

“Then you were not ill?” said Latimer taken 
aback. 


224 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 225 


‘‘No,” she answered coolly; “it was all acting; 
didn’t I act well?” 

“I told you she was a wicked woman,” moaned 
Sorley, who stood passively between the two plain- 
clothes men. 

“Wicked !” repeated Miss Grison with scorn ; “if 
I am wicked, what are you?” 

Inspector Moon made a sign that she should be 
silent, and explained his speedy presence quietly. 
“Miss Grison telephoned to me at Rotherhithe,” he 
said; “and as I happened to have business in the 
Bow Street police office my clerk repeated the 
telephonic message to that place. I was thus en- 
abled to drive here in a cab with my men, in spite 
of the fog, although I must say that we drove very 
slowly. However,” he looked at Sorley, “we are in 
excellent time. May I ask what you two gentlemen 
are doing here ?” 

“We brought Mr. Sorley to see Miss Grison at 
his request,” said Latimer. 

“You should have sent for me as this lady did,” 
rebuked Moon sharply. 

“There was no need,” put in Alan. “ Mr. Sorley 
intended to give himself up.” 

Moon smiled derisively. “I doubt that, seeing 
how he ran away from his own house at Belstone.” 

“I did so on the impulse of the moment,” cried 
Sorley, drawing himself up with some dignity; “but 
later I saw that my flight gave color to the charge 
against me. As I am quite innocent, I intended to 
give myself up so that the matter could be inquired 
into, and I do so now.” 

“Because you can’t help yourself,” said Moon 
with a shrug; “come away, sir, at once. I have a 
cab at the door.” 

“Oh, I sha’n’t try to escape, for I am innocent,” 


226 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


persisted the old man; “because I have the peacock 
it is supposed that I murdered Grison.” 

“It is very good evidence, you know,’’ Moon 
assured him. 

“It was that woman, who brought the peacock 
down to The Monastery.” 

Miss Grison laughed scornfully. “I told you 
he would say that,” she said, addressing Moon, “and 
I solemnly swear that I did no such thing.” 

“You stole it from me over twenty years ago,” 
cried Sorley insistently. 

“I took it, certainly,” admitted the woman coolly, 
“because you owed my brother money, and it was 
necessary to hold something valuable belonging to 
you so that he might be paid. You never paid, and 
preferred to get back your property, or rather that 
of your niece, by crime.” 

“It is wholly false.” 

“Tell that to the judge and jury,” she sneered, 
“I warned you that you would be punished for your 
iniquity, and now the time has come.” 

“The time has not come,” said Sorley furiously; 
“you have involved me in difficulties somehow, and 
I am trapped. But I believe that the Indian who 
lives here has been used by you to bring about my 
disgrace. He also knew about the peacock ” 

“Come! come,” interrupted Moon in a peremp- 
tory manner, “remember what you say will be used 
in evidence against you. Better hold your tongue 

and come away at once. I regret to say ” He 

stepped forward clinking handcuffs. 

“No,” almost screamed Sorley, backing against 
the wall with a gesture of refusal, “there is no need 
for that shame. I won’t run away; I intended to 
give myself up, indeed I did, I did.” 

“Put them on, put them on,” cried Miss Grison, 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 227 


clapping her hands with delight, “he murdered 
Baldwin and deserves punishment.” 

“I won’t run away, I won’t run away,” whim- 
pered Sorley piteously. 

Alan, sorry for the man, interfered. “Indeed 
I don’t think that there is any need to take such 
a precaution, Mr. Inspector. He really came to me 
and Mr. Latimer this evening to surrender himself 
to the law.” 

Dick nodded. “I agree with Fuller,” he re- 
marked, and Sorley cast a grateful look in his direc- 
tion, as Moon after a moment’s hesitation placed the 
handcuffs in his pocket. 

“I won’t put them on in the house,” he said 
graciously, “so when we go, no one will see that you 
have been arrested on so serious a charge. But 
in the cab ” 

“I don’t mind that,” said Sorley eagerly; “only 
spare me the shame of being seen with them on 
by my fellow-creatures. Oh, dear me, and I am 
quite innocent,” he maundered on in a senile way, 
“quite innocent. When ” 

“Come,” said the inspector imperiously; “I don’t 
wish to use force.” 

“I should drum him out of the house with the 
Rogue’s March,” said Miss Orison laughing fiercely, 
“beast that you are!” 

Sorley did not reply, for he was already tottering 
towards the door between the two officers, and 
followed by the inspector. As he passed out of the 
room, he turned and looked significantly at Alan, 
“The black bag, don’t forget the black bag,” he said, 
and, as Moon touched him on the shoulder he went 
stumbling out of sight. Strange to say no one 
attached much meaning to his last words, and Alan 
himself was bewildered. 


228 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


“What the dickens does he mean?’^ 

“Something bad, you may be sure,'' retorted Miss 
Grison malignantly. 

“I think Sorley is a better man than you admit 
him to be," remarked the young man indignantly. 
“Dick, where are you going?" 

“I intend to follow Sorley and Moon," answered 
Latimer, “come with me.'^ 

“No," said Fuller with a glance at the landlady, 
“I wish to ask Miss Grison a few questions." 

“They won't be answered," cried Miss Grison 
exultingly, “my enemy has been trapped, and there 
is nothing left for me to wish for.'’ 

Latimer was so annoyed at the malignity of the 
woman, that he turned at the door as her victim 
had done. “Let me remind you of an excellent 
proverb. Miss Grison,'’ he said quietly: “there’s 
many a slip t’wixt the cup and the lip!" and then 
he went out quietly. 

“There will be no slip except that of Sorley when 
he is hanged,'’ said the woman savagely. “Now 
you can go, Mr. Fuller, I have no quarrel with you." 

“There is one on my part, however," said Alan, 
taking a seat; “you have disgraced Marie by this 
arrest of her uncle." 

“Oh, indeed. And you say that because you love 
her. Is the course of justice to be stayed for the 
tears of a chit?" 

“Marie is not a chit," retorted the lover angrily. 

“Yes she is; yes she is," taunted Miss Grison in 
quite a schoolgirl manner. “I hate her, I hated her 
mother, who made me a slave to her whims. I hate 
Sorley, and have paid him out." 

“Not yet." 

“What do you mean with your ‘not yet,' " asked 
Miss Grison contemptuously. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 229 


“I mean that he may prove his innocence at the 
trial/' 

“He can't; everything is against him." 

“So far I admit that. But some new evidence 
may turn up." 

“I don’t care what turns up," said Miss Grison 
vehemently; “the man is a guilty beast and must 
be punished. I hate him, oh, how I hate him!" 

Fuller was about to ask why, when the door 
opened slightly and the brown haughty face of 
Morad-Bakche peered in. “Pardon my intrusion," he 
said in his best English, “but the whole house is 
in commotion about a reported arrest. How are you, 
Mr. Fuller." He stepped into the room as he spoke. 

“Wait here," said Miss Grison to Alan imperi- 
ously. “I must explain to these people, as there is 
no need to make bad worse. Sorley has ruined me 
before, and my brother with me. He will ruin me 
now by coming here to be arrested, since many of 
my boarders will leave the house." 

“Let me remind you. Miss Grison, that you are 
responsible for his arrest." 

“Because you and Mr. Latimer would have al- 
lowed him to escape," she said in angry tones. 
“Better that I should lose every boarder I have than 
let that beast go free," as the murmur in the near 
drawing-room increased. She opened the door 
which Bakche had closed. “Wait here," she said 
again to Alan, and vanished to pacify the inmates of 
the establishment. 

Left alone with Morad-Bakche, the young man 
made no remark, as he did not feel inclined to talk 
to the man. But he was not permitted to be at 
peace, for the Indian advanced eagerly, his eyes 
sparkling. “Has Mr. Sorley been arrested?" he 
asked swiftly and anxiously. 


230 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


“Yes/’ answered Fuller shortly. 

“On a charge of murder?” 

“Yes!” 

“How did he come here?” 

“I think you had better ask these questions of 
Miss Grison.” 

“I shall do so,” rejoined Bakche calmly, “when 
you are gone. But there is one she may not be 
able to answer.” 

“Probably!” Alan shrugged his shoulders with 
feigned indifference, guessing what the question was, 
and not chosing to reply to it immediately. 

But Bakche was not to be put off by a contemptu- 
ous manner. “Has Mr. Sorley given up the peacock 
to the police ?” he demanded. 

“I cannot say. If he has, the police will give it 
back to me.” 

“Why should it be given back to you ?” 

“Because it is the property of Miss Inderwick; 
and until her uncle is free I intend to look after her 
interests.” 

The other man sneered. “I can understand that.” 

“If you do, there is no necessity for you to ask 
questions,” rejoined Alan coolly. “You are no 
client of mine, Mr. Bakche.” 

“It would be better for you if I were.” 

“I fail to see that. You want the peacock, and I 
don’t intend that you should have it, or the treasure 
either.” 

“Both belong to me,” cried the Indian angrily. 

“I think not. And as our interests are opposed, 
you can scarcely expect me to reply to your ques- 
tions further.” 

“But if we join forces, we shall be stronger to 
learn the truth.” 

“Possibly, but if the discovery of the truth — I 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 231 


suppose you mean in connection with the where- 
abouts of the treasure — means your having half the 
jewels, I prefer to work alone.” Fuller thought for 
a moment, then added slowly, ‘‘of course Miss Inder- 
wick may be willing to make terms with you regard- 
ing the sharing of the gems on one condition ?” 

“What is that?” demanded Bakche eagerly, and 
with flashing eyes. 

“She believes her uncle to be innocent, and I am 
half inclined to agree with her, notwithstanding the 
weight of evidence against him. Now if you can 
prove his innocence, and thus do a service to Miss 
Inderwick, why then ” 

“But how can I prove his innocence?” asked 
Bakche in a puzzled manner. “I know nothing 
about the murder.” 

“I never supposed you did. However, the proving 
of Sorley’s innocence is your affair, if you want to 
get a share in the jewels.” 

Bakche took a turn up and down the room. “I 
may know more of this affair than you think,” he 
said abruptly. 

“Probably you do since you say so. Well?” 

“Well, if I get Mr. Sorley released can I take 
your word for ” 

“Certainly you can take my word,” replied Fuller 
stiffly; “and my offer is such a sporting one, that 
it is not worth while committing it to paper.” 

Bakche nodded. “I have always found that an 
English gentleman keeps his word, sir,” he said 
cordially, “so on those terms I shall hunt for the 
^^ssassin of Grison.” 

“Don’t you then believe that Sorley is guilty?” 
asked Alan suddenly. 

“On those terms I shall hunt for the assassin of 
Grison,” said Bakche once more. “I decline to 


232 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


speak further, and ” he stopped short as Miss 

Grison re-entered the room and moved towards the 
door. ‘We can talk further, Mr. Fuller, when 
you are more at leisure,” was his final remark as 
he stole out and closed the door swiftly behind 
him. 

“What is that ?” asked Miss Grison with a search- 
ing look at Alan. 

“Bakche wants the peacock and the jewels, as he 
says that they rightfully belong to him. He wishes 
me to help him.” 

“Will you do so?” 

“No. They belong to Miss Inderwick.” 

“And you intend to marry Miss Inderwick,” said 
the woman with a hard laugh ; “well you are wise. 
But Mr. Bakche is the rightful owner.” 

“On what grounds ?” 

“The Begum’s jewels, which she gave George 
Inderwick were temple treasures and should not 
have been parted with.’^ 

“Hum!” said Alan meditatively. “I remember 
Bakche saying something about priests. Is he one 
himself?” 

“No,” answered the woman quietly, “but he is the 
rightful heir to the jewels, as you can see from the 
snakes on his right arm.” 

“I don’t see how that proves his ownership!” 

“Many of the ornaments are in the form of snakes 
set with gems.” 

“Still I don’t see,” persisted Fuller doubtfully. 

Miss Grison sat down impatiently, as apparently 
the late excitement had affected her nerves. “I’m 
sure I can’t explain further. Mr. Bakche declared 
that the jewels are sacred and that he wants to get 
them back. The snake sign I mention is tattooed 
on his right forearm twisting in spirals up from 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


233 


the wrist to the elbow. Ask him to show it to 
you.” 

“I don’t think it interests me,” said Fuller dryly. 
“Mr. Bakche assuredly shall not get Marie’s prop- 
erty if I can prevent it.” 

“I think the peacock prevents it,” said Miss Grison 
spitefully. “IJntil you guess the riddle you can’t 
find the gems, and I hope you never will.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I hate Sorley, and I hate the girl, and 
the whole horrible lot,” she cried furiously. 

“So you said before. This conversation is getting 
monotonous.” 

“End it then; I don’t want you. But if you will 
take my advice you will give the peacock to Mr. 
Morad-Bakche. He has sworn to have it.” 

“And I have sworn that he shall not have it. Do 
you think that I am afraid of a black man. Miss 
Grison? Moreover I have not got the bird.” 

“Oh!” She shrugged her shoulders, “I daresay 
Sorley has concealed it somewhere, and will tell you 
where to find it before he is hanged.” 

“He never will be hanged.” 

“Yes he will. He can’t escape.” 

“Unless it can be proved that you took the pea- 
cock to Belstone.” 

“I never did,” said Miss Grison coldly; “Sorley 
made up that story to account for its possession and 
to implicate me.” 

“Well,” said Alan rising, “I shall ask Jotty, for 
I verily believe he is aware of much more than he 
chooses to say.” 

“He has never told me anything,” snapped the 
woman; “and moreover is the most ungrateful 
little reptile I ever met. I gave him a good home 
and a new name and food and clothes and every 


234 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


chance of being respectable; yet he ran away, and 
heaven only knows where he is.” 

‘‘I can’t tell you his whereabouts now, Miss 
Grison, but I can tell you in what direction he went 
on leaving the house a few days ago.” 

For the first time the landlady showed some 
curiosity. ‘Where did he go?” 

“To Belstone with a copy of your interview in his 
pocket to warn Sorley that ” 

He got no further, for Miss Grison jumped up 
with her hard blue eyes flashing with rage. “The 
traitor,” she said in an ominously calm voice. “After 
all I did for him, he tried to save Sorley, did 
he?” 

“For money?” 

“Of course. The boy is a born miser. Well, if 
he returns here, I shall know how to punish him. 
Never mind how; don’t ask; I may box his ears, or 
I may have him put in jail for theft.” 

“But since you have given him a chance of being 
respectable why ruin him ?” 

“Because he has sided with my enemy.” 

“Why do you hate Sorley so?” questioned Fuller, 
bluntly. 

“You wish to know. Then you shall. I hate 
him because he ruined my brother Baldwin, because 
he murdered my brother Baldwin, and because he 
deserted me twenty years ago.” 

“What do you mean ?” 

“I mean what I say, Mr. Fuller. Do you know 
who I am? You don’t. Well, I am Mrs. Sorley.” 

Alan stared. “His wife?” 

“His deserted wife,” corrected the woman bitterly. 
“Yes; Randolph married me because I was a pretty 
girl. But he grew tired of me, and then he wanted 
to make a rich lady his wife.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 235 


“Yes; I have heard that,” said Alan recalling the 
story of his mother, about Miss Marchmont. 

“It was a secret marriage,” said Miss Grison; 
“he asked me to keep it secret, as he feared lest 
his sister, Mrs. Inderwick, should ask him to leave 
The Monastery if she learned what he had done. 
The lady he wished to make his wife died, or I 
should have spoken out. But Baldwin forged that 
check, and the sole way in which I could prevent 
Randolph from putting him in the dock was by 
promising to hold my tongue for ever. He gave me 
money, and I came here to set up this boarding- 
house. And I took the peacock to punish him, 
afterwards giving it to Baldwin. Randolph fought 
me, but I said that I would destroy it if he used 
force. And then — well,” she broke off abruptly, 
“can you blame me for hating this man ? He ruined 
my brother and he ruined me and I — hush ! What’s 
that? Mr. Latimer!” 

It was indeed Dick, who came hastily into the 
room. 

“Alan I Alan, come with me to the police office.” 

“What is the matter?” 

“Sorley has escaped.” 

“Escaped,” Miss Grison screamed, and then sup- 
pressed her emotion lest more trouble should be 
caused in the house. “How — how did he escape?” 
she asked, clenching her hands so tightly that the 
nails were driven into the flesh. 

Dick was recovering his breath by degrees. 
“When the cab stopped at Bow Street police office, 
and we alighted — that is, when Moon and his officer 
and Sorley alighted, for I followed him in another 
cab — Sorley suddenly darted away and was lost in 
the fog.” 

There was a look of mingled dismay and anger on 


236 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


Miss Orison’s face at this unexpected intelligence. 
She tried to speak and could not, so Fuller asked 
the necessary question. 

“Didn’t the detective hold him when he alighted 

“Yes, and there came in Sorley’s cleverness. On 
the way out of this house he managed to slip his 
arms out of the sleeves of that overcoat he wore and 
simply left it buttoned on his shoulders. When one 
of the men held him by the arm, he suddenly slipped 
the coat and ran away. Of course Moon and his 
underlings followed, but the fog was so thick that 
they could not catch him. I arrived a moment later, 
and then came back here to tell you.” 

“He is guilty, he is guilty,” said Miss Orison 
persistently. “What do you say now, Mr. Fuller?” 

Alan was puzzled. “He certainly gave himself 
up,” he remarked. 

“And intended to give the detectives and Moon 
the slip whenever he had the chance,” retorted the 
landlady. “Bah! Don’t tell me; the man is the 
murderer of my brother, and came here to try and 
force me to prove his innocence by admitting that 
I took the peacock down to Belstone, which I cer- 
tainly did not. What is your opinion, Mr. Latimer ?” 

“I can’t say,” replied Dick with a perplexed air. 
“To-night, since the man was giving himself up so 
frankly, I half believed that he was innocent. I 
have my doubts now. But it is a very puzzling 
case,” ended Dick with a sigh. 

Fuller, preparing to take his leave buttoned up his 
coat and picked up his hat. “There is one thing 
to be said in Sorley’s favor,” he remarked, address- 
ing Miss Grison, “if he did murder your brother, he 
did you a service.” 

She threw back her head scornfully. “Oh indeed I 
I should like to know in what way, Mr. Fuller?” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 237 


“I heard — and Latimer there is my informant 
— that your brother murdered a man just outside the 
opium den he frequented in order to rob him of 
watch and money and general jewelry. Since this 
is the case, Sorley saved your brother from being 
hanged, and your name from being further dis- 
graced.’’ 

Miss Orison’s head drooped. ‘‘Inspector Moon 
told me about the matter,” she admitted, “and how 
the watch had been traced. But I don’t believe 
Baldwin killed anyone. He was much too kind and 
thoughtful.” 

“My dear lady,” said Latimer impatiently, “let me 
point out that no one but yourself entertains this 
good opinion of your late brother. According to 
everyone else he was a bad lot. I regret having 
to say this, but you must be just. If Sorley has 
acted wickedly — and of that we cannot be sure — 
your brother is not free from blame. That he 
murdered this man is certain, so his own violent 
death is simple justice.” 

“I don’t believe what you say, Mr. Latimer; you 
are prejudiced in favor of that beast.” 

“On the contrary, as Mr. Fuller will tell you, I 
have been hot against the man. Miss Grison. Now 
I have my doubts of his guilt.” 

“In spite of his escape?” 

“Yes! It is a perplexing case, and until I can 
gain more evidence, I am not prepared to give an 
opinion. Why do you hate him so?” 

The woman gave the same answer to Latimer 
as she had given already to Alan, detailing the 
circumstances which led her to become her enemy’s 
wife, and emphasizing his desertion. “And I kept 
silent for Baldwin’s sake,” she ended in a grating 
voice; “but he is dead, so there is no longer any 


238 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


reason for me to deny that I am Mrs. Sorley. Not 
that I shall ever take my real name, seeing how my 
, husband has disgraced it. Now I don’t want you 
to make any remarks, thank you, Mr. Latimer. You 
can go, and you can be sure that I shall do my best 
to get Randolph arrested again.” 

“You won’t find it easy to discover him in this 
fog,” said Dick dryly, and with Alan took his 
immediate leave, for there seemed no necessity to 
remain and listen to Miss Orison’s wrath which was 
that of an unreasonable woman obsessed by one 
bitter idea. 

The fog was still thick, and Fuller remarked that 
he wondered how Moon had managed to get a cab. 
“We couldn’t do it, Dick.” 

“The fog gets lighter at times and then thick again,” 
said Latimer absently. “I suppose when Moon took 
his cab, traffic was resumed for the moment.” 

“It seems to have stopped now,” answered Alan, 
trying to peer into the darkness blurred by the street 
lamps. “Let us go home. Why do you want to go 
to the Bow Street office again?” 

“I only wished to learn the latest details with an 
eye to copy,” said Dick, “but I think I shall leave 
things until to-morrow, as I am quite tired out.” 

Having arrived at this conclusion, the two groped 
their way back to Chancery Lane and to Barkers 
Inn. The true reason why Latimer had so readily 
yielded to Fuller’s suggestion was that he greatly 
desired to learn if Sorley had again sought shelter 
with them. But on entering their chambers they 
found that no one had come during their absence, 
and Dick heaved a sigh of relief, which was echoed 
by Alan. 

“I’m glad he didn’t come back,” remarked Alan, 
“we should have had to give him up.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 239 


“I think he knew as much, and so did not return. 
However, the fog will afford him an excellent chance 
of escape, and I doubt if he will be caught a second 
time. What’s the matter?” 

‘‘The black bag,” gasped Fuller, pointing to an 
article of that description which was on a chair in 
the corner of the room, “he mentioned that when he 
went away with Moon.” Alan picked up the bag. 
“What is in it?” 

“The peacock for a hundred pounds,” cried Dick 
swiftly. 

He was right, for when the bag was opened, Ful- 
ler found wrapped in the chamois skin the golden 
bird, which was the cause of all the trouble. 

“Ha!” said Latimer staring at it, “now we can 
try and solve the riddle.” 


CHAPTER XVI 

MISS inderwick's excursion 

While these events were taking place in London, 
Marie, isolated in The Monastery, anxiously waited 
to hear news from her lover. As arranged, Mr. 
Fuller met* her at the Lewes station and drove her 
to Belstone in his trap. As Alan had guessed, the 
vicar was in full possession of all that had taken 
place, and invited the girl to stay with himself and 
his wife until matters were more settled. While in 
London Marie had complained of her loneliness at 
the big house, and had looked forward to some such 
invitation. But on the way down in the train she 
had changed her mind, since she felt that she could 
think things out better when alone. However, she 
did not object to dining at the vicarage, and ex- 
plained the whole matter to her hostess. They 
were naturally horrified, as no such event had ever 
before disturbed the village. 

“I can’t believe that Mr. Sorley would commit a 
crime,” said Mrs. Fuller, greatly distressed, '^gen- 
tlemen don’t do these things.” 

The vicar drew down his long upper lip. ‘T fear 
that gentlemen do what suits them, when the tempta- 
tion is strong, my dear.” 

‘^Does that mean that you believe Uncle R'an is 
guilty?” flashed out Marie in a resentful tone. 

“Not necessarily. I am not yet acquainted with 
the whole story, save what scraps you told me as 
we drove here.” 

Marie looked round the room, and seeing that the 
servants had taken their departure, leaving those at 
the table to walnuts and wine, she concluded that 
240 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 241 


the moment had come to make a clean breast of 
things. In a low voice, and entirely without emo- 
tion, she related all that she had heard from Alan 
and Dick. The story sounded black enough, and 
the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Fuller grew longer as 
she proceeded. When she ended there ensued a 
silence which rasped Marie’s nerves. 

“Well?” she asked sharply, and looking from one 
to the other, “what do you think of it?” 

“The weight of evidence is decidedly in favor of 
Sorley’s guilt,” said Mr. Fuller sadly. 

“I daresay. All the same he is innocent.” 

“How can you prove that, my dear girl?” 

“I can’t prove it,” responded Miss Inderwick in a 
truly feminine way, “but Uncle Ran never did it 
for all that.” 

“It is all very dreadful,” moaned Mrs, Fuller, 
shaken out of her usual state of placid happiness. 
“I wonder you can speak so quietly, Marie.” 

“I cried awfully in London,” acknowledged the 
girl frankly; “but I can’t cry any more. Tears 
won’t help Uncle Ran, and common-sense will. He 
is not going to be hanged if I can help it.” 

“Oh, my dear.” Mrs. Fuller shuddered at the 
mention of the sinister word. 

“You intend to prove your uncle’s innocence — or 
what you presume to be his innocence?” asked the 
vicar, looking at her doubtfully. 

“Yes, only I don’t presume anything. I know 
that Uncle Ran never killed that poor thing. I 
don’t know who did, but he didn’t.” 

“How are you going to set about the matter?” 

“I can’t say,” said Marie curtly, although this 
statement was not quite true, for she had an idea of 
making a start, which she did not intend to place 
before these two ordinary people. 


242 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘'Of course, if your uncle had the peacock, my 
dear 

“Mrs. Fuller, I am quite sure that Miss Grison 
brought down the peacock on that day when she 
paid a visit unasked to The Monastery. She hates 
Uncle Ran because she thinks he ruined her brother^ 
and is only too glad to get him into trouble.’’ 

“But how could she get the peacock?” 

“From her brother. He had it all the time. Alan 
said so, and he knows a very great deal about 
matters.” 

“Alan has a good head,” said the vicar approv- 
ingly. “I think Marie you had better allow him to 
look into the matter, and stay with us meanwhile. 
We can send over to The Monastery for your 
clothes, my dear.” 

“No thank you. I wished at one time to stay 
here until Uncle Ran was proved innocent, but I 
think it is best for me to return to the house in case 
he should come back again.” 

“Oh, I hope not,” cried Mrs. Fuller m alarm, “he 
would assuredly be arrested as, soon as the news got 
about.” 

“It wouldn’t get about,” said Marie resolutely, 
“for I should hide Uncle Ran somewhere until 
we learned the truth. There are plenty of 
secret places in the house where he could be 
concealed.” 

Mr. Fuller passed over this latter statement to 
remark upon the first. “The question is, what is 
the truth? If Sorley is innocent, and I sincerely 
trust that he is, who murdered this unfortunate 
Baldwin?” 

“Morad-Bakche,” said Marie promptly. 

“Who is he? You never mentioned him before,” 
said Mrs. Fuller, startled. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


243 


‘‘Did I not?” observed Miss Inderwick with a 
lightness she was far from feeling. “Oh, he is an 
Indian who wants to get the jewels because he says 
that they belong to the royal family of Kam. He 
came down here and stopped a night at The Red 
Fox.” 

Mr Fuller nodded. “I fancy I heard some- 
thing about a foreigner staying there,” he said 
quietly, “in July last was it not?” 

Marie nodded. “He learned all about the pea- 
cock from Mrs. Verwin — the common talk of the 
village, that is.” 

“Oh that woman is a terrible gossip,” exclaimed 
Mrs. Fuller distressed. “I dread her tongue. What 
did she say exactly, my dear?” 

Marie reported the interview between herself and 
Mrs. Verwin and Alan, and shortly, the vicar and his 
wife were acquainted with the way in which Morad- 
Bakche had traced the peacock to Belstone and after- 
wards to London. “And I believe that he learned 
Mr. Orison had it,” finished Marie, “and must have 
tried to get it from him. A man like that is much 
more likely to murder a person than poor dear 
Uncle Ran, though he has his faults, and has always 
been horrid over my engagement to Alan.” 

“But are you really engaged to Alan?” asked the 
vicar sharply. 

“Yes, I am. Uncle Ran said that if Alan found 
the jewels that we could be married, so I look upon 
myself as being engaged to him.” 

“But Alan has never found the jewels,” objected 
Mrs. Fuller tremulously. “He may never find them, 
my dear.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” replied Marie, getting on her 
feet; “we shall marry all the same. But the first 
thing to be done is to save Uncle Ran, and I am 


244 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


doing what I can — that is, I intend to do what I can. 
Alan will work also, and Mr. Latimer, though he 
doesn’t seem to think Uncle Ran is innocent.’ 

‘‘On the face of it it looks as though he were not,” 
said the vicar doubtfully, and rising in his turn, 
“however we can talk over the matter in the draw- 
ing-room.” 

“No,” said Marie standing very erect, and look- 
ing at the elderly pair with very bright eyes. “I 
am now going home to think out things.” 

“Oh, Marie, won’t you stay here?” 

“I think it is best to go home,” repeated the girl 
gently, but kissing the soft and withered old cheek. 
“I am all right with granny and Henny and Jenny 
to look after me. If Mr. Bakche comes I shan’t be 
afraid.” 

“My dear girl, you may suspect him wrongly,” 
said Mr. Fuller. 

“Well, other people are suspecting Uncle Ran 
wrongly,” retorted Miss Inderwick, “so that balances 
things. Now I must go away. Good-night Mr. 
Fuller; good-night, Mrs. Fuller. If I learn any- 
thing I shall come and tell you.” 

“I shall write at once to Alan and ask him to 
explain things precisely,” said the vicar, as he saw 
his guest at the door; “and keep up your heart my 
dear child. This trouble, like all troubles, is a bless- 
ing in disguise.” 

“It is a very good disguise, then” said Marie 
sadly, “no, don’t come with me,” she added when 
Mr. Fuller assumed his soft hat and took his stick. 
“I can get home by myself.” 

“No,” said the clergyman grimly, and took her 
arm, “after you have hinted about that Indian, I 
think it is just as well to see you safely into the 
hands of your servants.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 245 


‘‘But you don’t think ” 

“I think that one should always be on the safe 
side, my dear. If this man wants the peacock, he 
may try and enter the house. If he does I am sorry 
for him, as Henny and Jenny are as strong as men. 
By the way where is that wretched bird, which has 
caused so much trouble ?” 

“I don’t know,” sighed Marie, as they walked 
through the village, “uncle took it away with him 
I think, although he has left his gems.” 

“I should think if Sorley clears his name he will 
have had enough of gems for the rest of his life,” 
remarked Mr. Fuller rebukingly, but as Marie did 
not answer, and he did not wish to cause her pain, 
he said no more. They passed through Belstone, 
and into the park, and Marie said good-bye to the 
vicar when Henny with a noisy joy received her at 
the door. Mr. Fuller was now at ease in his mind, 
as he knew how devoted the Dutch dolls were, and 
returned home wondering how these crooked things 
would straighten out. 

Granny and the two servants were overcome with 
delight when their young mistress was within doors, 
for they had troubled considerably over her visit to 
London. Marie laughed them out of their fears and 
assured them that she was quite able to look after 
hersellf. They asked after Mr. Sorley, who was no 
great favorite with the three, but of course Marie, 
ignorant of what had taken place at Miss Orison’s, 
could give them no information. In her opinion 
Uncle Ran had gone abroad, and would wait there 
until his innocence could be proved. 

“Well, my dear Miss Marie,” said granny polish- 
ing her spectacles. “God forbid as I should say 
what I shouldn’t say, but there’s no doubt as Mr. 
Sorley ain’t the proper person to be your guardian, 


246 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


my dear. He’s took your money and kept you 
short and mewed you up here like a nun, to say 
nothing of having behaved very badly to that poor 
Miss Grison, not that I’m fond of her myself.” 

“Did Uncle Ran ever care for her?” asked Miss 
Inderwick anxiously. 

“Well he did and he didn’t. She was pretty, in a 
light-haired skimpy way, I don’t deny, and I thought 
as he loved her ; and then — but it’s too long a story. 
Miss Marie. I’ll tell it you to-morrow when you 
are rested. Let us hope that Mr. Sorley won’t be 
hanged, which would be a sore disgrace to the 
family, and that you’ll marry Master Alan, who is 
just the kind-hearted gentleman to look after your 
interests properly.” 

“Look after them and me also, you mean, 
granny,” said Marie, who was really too weary to 
listen to an account of her uncle’s early delinquen- 
cies. “I shall go to bed now,” and she did, feeling 
quite worn out. But before falling asleep she ar- 
ranged in her own mind to go to London the next 
day. 

The fact is, Marie being anxious and wilful, was 
not at all pleased to remain passive while things 
were so unpleasant for her Uncle, and incidentally 
for herself, since she was his niece. Alan had in- 
sisted that she should not see Mother Slaig, where- 
upon Marie, although promising to obey him, men- 
tally vowed that she would do so. Mother Slaig, if 
anyone, would know the truth and might be per- 
suaded to reveal it to a dexterous questioner. Of 
course this was Marie’s own opinion, and she in- 
tended to prove to Alan that she was right. Sorley 
had given her twenty pounds, so there was no lack 
of money, and the girl decided firmly to do a little 
detective business on her own account. For no 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 247 


visible reason she believed that Bakche had some- 
thing to do with the death of Grison, if not indeed 
the actual doer of the deed. Should her surmise 
prove to be correct Mother Slaig might be able to 
say if the Indian had haunted the slum, or had come 
into touch with the deceased. And Marie wished 
her uncle would return home if only to tell her that 
he had seen Bakche at Rotherhithe, which was not 
impossible, considering that Mr. Sorley had been too 
often to interview Grison. But Sorley, as she sadly 
reflected, did not dare to come back, for the detec- 
tive left behind by Moon was still in the house, and 
would arrest him at once. 

Of course granny made an outcry the next morn- 
ing, when Marie announced her intention of going 
again to London. All her arguments were in vain, 
however, and Miss Inderwick left the house early 
so as to catch a morning train. She promised to be 
back again by six o’clock, but did not tell granny 
where she was going — that is she admitted that the 
metropolis was her goal, but did not specify whither 
she would precisely go. Granny, believing that the 
wilful girl was to meet her lover, felt fairly com- 
fortable in her mind. Had she known that Miss 
Inderwick purposed exploring a slum, she would 
have sent a telegram to Fuller to stop the excursion. 
Marie guessed this, so held her peace. 

The girl knew exactly how to get to Rotherhithe, 
as she had peeped into an ABC. before leaving Bel- 
stone. On arrival at Victoria it was necessary to 
take the underground route, which would conduct 
her directly to her destination. When on the spot 
Marie hoped by enquiries to learn the precise where- 
abouts of Mother Slaig, and moreover had a faint 
idea that the slum the harridan lived in was called 
Gibson’s Rents. To explore this low neighborhood 


248 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


she had put on an old serge frock and a shabby 
black jacket, so that she was as well disguised as her 
uncle had been when he sought Barkers Inn. Not 
that Marie was ever so well dressed as Mr. Sorley, 
for he never gave her sufficient money to be extrava- 
gant. 

The venturesome damsel duly reached Victoria 
Station, and had no difficulty in dropping downward 
to the nether railway line. Being yet a schoolgirl 
and feeling hungry, she bought some pastry of the 
jam-puff order and devoured it in the first-class com- 
partment, which she shared with other ladies. 
Marie travelled in this most expensive fashion, be- 
cause she thought she would be safer from being 
accosted by strangers. Destiny protected her in this 
especial way, and she gained Rotherhithe without 
having a single remark addressed to her. When 
she emerged into the open air once more, she looked 
helplessly around, not knowing which way to go. 
But she felt sure that Gibson’s Rents was the name 
of the slum, and asked a tall and burly policeman 
where it was to be found. 

The officer looked at her keenly, and saw that 
she was a lady in spite of her shabby clothes. “Why 
do you wish to go there, miss?” he asked, and 
touched his helmet, “it’s a rough place.” 

“I wish to see a woman called Mrs. Slaig.” 

“Mother Slaig. Why, miss, she’s one of the 
worst creatures in the slum. I don’t think it is wise 
of you to go, miss, I don’t indeed. You’re a dis- 
trict visitor, I take it, miss,” went on the man, who 
could conceive of no other object but philanthropy 
which would take the young lady into such a hole, 
“and Mother Slaig don’t want tracts.” 

Marie did not deny the identity the policeman 
attributed to her, as she was quick enough to see 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 249 


that such a character would expedite her journey, 
and would conceal her real intentions. She did not 
wish to be asked questions lest she should get into 
trouble, by interesting herself in a police-court case, 
such as the murder of Grison truly was. ‘‘I shall be 
all right, officer,” she answered lightly; ‘‘no one 
will hurt me.” 

“Well, miss, I don’t think they will, for they think 
a heap of district visitors at Gibson’s Rents, as 
these ladies give them money. But I can take you 
to the end of my beat and pass you on to another 
officer, who will show you the way. Come along, 
miss.” 

Marie conceived a high estimate of the guard- 
ians of the law, for her friend passed her along to 
another, who transferred her to a third, and all three 
men were courteous and considerate in every way. 
Perhaps Marie’s good looks, and engaging manners 
had something to do with this suavity, but she was 
certainly charmed with her guides. It was a fourth 
policeman, tall, slim and military-looking who con- 
ducted her down the crooked alley, near the river- 
side, where Mother Slaig had her boarding-house. 
There were numbers of disreputable people about, 
both male and female, and when the oaths of these 
unfortunate creatures struck her ear, and her eyes 
rested on their animal faces, the girl felt glad that 
she had a constable at her elbow. In her ignorance, 
she had never thought that the neighborhood was so 
vile as this, and half regretted coming. However, 
she had the high spirit of the Inderwicks, and de- 
clined to turn back, for having put her hand to the 
plough, she did not intend to leave it until she had 
driven her furrow. 

The fourth policeman saw her shudder of disgust, 
when they stopped before a disreputable house, 


250 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


dingy, tumble-down, and dilapidated. ‘‘I shall stay 
here while you give Mother Slaig your tracts, miss,’' 
he said politely, also taking her for a district visitor, 
‘^and if anything goes wrong, you just call for me.” 

Perhaps for this reason Mother Slaig received 
Marie graciously, when she ventured into the evil- 
smelling place. It was like a rabbit-warren with 
innumerable doors, passages, stairs, and rooms, all 
equally foul. Men and women in ragged garbs 
swarmed in and out, while children tumbled here 
there and everywhere, shrilly crying and swearing 
and quarrelling. The police introduced Marie to the 
landlady of this thieves’ kitchen, as it truly was, and 
then took up his station at the door with his thumbs 
in his belt, to look benignly on the ebbing and flow- 
ing of the populace in and out of the lane, and in and 
out of the dens which bordered it. Mother Slaig, 
not approving of district visitors — for Marie had 
been presented as one — led the young lady into a 
small dark ro6m on the ground floor, and sat down 
with a sniff, prepared to battle for her rights as an 
Englishwoman, who declined to be converted. She 
was a shapeless stout old creature swathed in various 
rags which had long since lost their color. Her face 
was so swarthy as to suggest gipsy blood, and her 
snappy black eyes and the quantity of cheap jewel- 
lery she wore emphasised the fact that she prob- 
ably belonged to the gentle Romany. 

“I don’t want no Bible talk, young lady,” she said 
in a harsh voice, “nor no tracts, nor no arsking if 
I’m saved. Whether I am or I ain’t’s my look out, 
so just say your say and git, though I don’t deny,” 
added Mother Slaig in a whining tone, “as a shilling 
or two, let alone gold, would help me to bear me 
sorrers better, bless you, my dearie.” 

shall give you a pound if you will let me have 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 251 


a talk with you,” said Marie, smiling, for in spite of 
the woman’s disreputable looks there was something 
oddly attractive about her. 

“A pound, and what’s a pound, miss ?” grumbled 
Mother Slaig. 

“Not much, but it is all I can afford. You are 
a kind-hearted woman, Mrs. Slaig, I am quite sure.” 

“Me !” Mother Slaig stared. “Why I’m the tork 
of the place for me languidge and slappings.” 

“Ah,” said Marie diplomatically, “no one has 
taken you in the right way.” 

“P’raps they ’ave an’ p’raps they ’avn’t,” growled 
the woman restlessly, for Marie’s charm of manner 
softened her, “an what’s all this oil and butter for, 
miss. You want something, you do. Oh trust you 
fur that.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Slaig, I do want something, and I am 
going to throw myself on your mercy, because I 
trust you.” 

The old hag stopped scratching her elbow, and 
stared harder than ever. “I never was spoke delicate- 
like to afore,” she muttered. “You ain’t the sort of 
lady with tracts as I’ ’ad ’ere, bullying me no end.” 

“I hope I’m not,” said Marie with a girlish laugh, 
which brought a perplexed smile in answer on the 
old woman’s dirty wrinkled face. It was rare that 
such pure innocent laughter was heard in Gibson’s 
Rents. “I know you will help me, Mrs. Slaig.” 

“Well, I don’t say as I won’t, for there’s no deny- 
ing you’ve got a way with you, as ain’t bad. What 
is it?” 

“It’s about the murder of Mr. Grison?” said 
Marie slowly. 

Mother Slaig aroused with a subdued screech, 
“Blimme if you ain’t one o’ them wimin ’tecs. Now 
ain’t y’, ain’t y’ ?” 


252 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


''No; I am the niece of Mr. Randolph Sorley 
who is accused of the crime.’’ 

Mother Slaig dropped again into her chair a 
shapeless bundle of clothes, and with a bewildered 
look in her eyes. "Ho! you’re her, are y’?” she 
growled, but not in a hostile manner. "Moon — he’s 
the head peeler hereabouts, dearie’s been nosin’ 
round about that murder. Only this mornin’ he 
comes an’ ses as they caught that Sorley cove larst 
night, and he got away in th’ bloomin’ fog. Yuss,” 
said Mother Slaig, anticipating Marie’s question. 
"I knows the Sorley cove. Many a time he’s come 
t’ see that Orison chap, as v^as a rotten bad egg, and 
guv me shillin’s and tanners endless. A swell, a 
toff, he was tryin’ to look what wasn’t his age, but 
a good ’un wiff his cash. I ’adn’t got no row with 
him, nohow,” and she nodded vigorously. 

"You don’t think he murdered Mr. Orison?” 
asked Marie apprehensively. 

"Blimme if I knows,” said Mother Slaig reflec- 
tively, and scratching her elbow again, " and what 
odd’s ’f he did anyhow, miss. Orison was better 
undergroun’ than above it in my opinion. Never 
paid his rent rigler he did, cuss him,” swore Mother 
Slaig furiously, "an’ if I’d knowed about that gold 
hen as they’re makin’ sich a fuss round. I’d ha’ had 
it out of him for a whelp as he allays was, an’ that 
same, you kin taike fro’ me, miss.” 

"Well I don’t believe that my uncle murdered Mr. 
Orison,” said Marie in a resolute voice, and looking 
hard at the harridan. 

"That’s right, dearie, allys stick up fur them as 
is relatives, though I don’t think much o’ mine 
leavin’ me ’ere to slave cruel, and never givin’ no 
cash whiff their stingyness. He was ’ere that night 
y’ know anyhow.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 253 


“He came away at eight o'clock and Mr. Grison 
wasn’t killed till after,” declared the girl. 

“So he ses,” murmured Mother Slaig, “p’raps 
some frien’ of him es Grison stuck paid him out in 
th’ saime waif.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Marie who had not 
heard of the man’s act. 

“Didn’t y’ know,” cried Mother Slaig with relish 
“why, bless y’ miss — an’ bless y’ I kin, fur I’ve kind 
o’ taiken a fancy t’ y’ — Grison killed a cove es he 
smoked wiff in that Chinky’s den. We fun’ the 
watch of th’ cove an’ his juwulery in Grison’s room. 
A frien’ of him es wos done fur may ’ave stuck 
Grison out of revenge, and no blame t’ him, dearie.” 

“Do you know if any relatives of this dead man 
came down here?” 

“No, I never did. I don’t know anything, miss, 
and what’s more I don’t want to i’ case I shud come 
bunkin’ against them beastly perlice, as is allays 
interferin’ with an honest woman who’s tryin’ to 
git ’er livin’.” 

“Well then,” asked Marie coming to the point 
“can you tell me if an Indian called Morad-Bakche 
ever came to see Mr. Grison?” 

“Don’ no th’ naime,” said Mother Slaig, after 
a moment’s thought, “an there’s lots of them dagoes 
abaout ’ere, lascars an’ mulletters and all that sort 
o’ scum. Grison torked t’ one an’ all. What like’s 
the cove’s y’ve got in yer mind, miss?” 

As Marie had heard Bakche described both by 
Alan and Mrs. Verwin she was able to convey to 
Mother Slaig’s shrewd intelligence a fair picture of 
the man. The old hag reflected again, then slapped 
her fat knees with both fat hands. “Know ’im, 
dearie; ’course I knows him, ’Aughty-like, fur a 
nigger, an’ looked on me, es is a free born British 


254 the peacock OF JEWELS 


woman jus’ like mud. I guv him bits of m’ mind 
when he sneaked round ’ere.” 

“Then he did come to see Mr. Grison?” asked 
Marie, delighted that she had succeeded in establish- 
ing the fact of Bakche’s acquaintance with the dead 
man. “Did he come often?” 

“Carn’t keep count, miss, me not ’aving a ’ead fur 
figures, tho’ me sister was grand at them, dearie. 
But he comes times an’ again. Oh, yuss,” she went 
on as the memory returned to her, “he was stan’orf 
fur a nigger. ’Thort he was a lascar at fust, but he 
wasn’t, tho’ he did live on rice and water like them 
sweeps. Dress’d like one of them stokers tho’ — if 
y’ know what a seedee boy is, miss, which of course 
y’ wudn’t, bein’ a lady. I sawr as he was a cut 
above them, I did. He wore a snake?” 

“Wore a snake,” repeated Marie bewildered. 

“On his right arm, below th’ elber,” explained 
Mother Slaig, 'tattooted it was, as them sailors ’ave 
a fancy fur ; twistin’ round’ an’ roun’ till it made me 
giddy t’ look at it.” 

Marie was glad she had heard this mark of 
identification was to be found on the haughty dark 
gentleman who had visited Grison. She was certain 
that the man in question was Bakche in search of the 
peacock, but it was just as well that Mother Slaig 
could identify him by means of the tattooed snake. 
“Was he here on the night of the murder?” asked 
Marie anxiously. 

“Ah, now you ’as me,” said Mother Slaig in an 
expansive fashion, “me, on th’ night as he was done 
fur, bein’ ’appy.” 

“Happy?” Marie did not know what was meant. 

“Gin,” explained Mother Slaig rocking to and 
fro. “White satin as some call it, tho’ blue ruin is 
my naime fur it. I got half a quid fro’ that Sorley 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 255 


chap, es he come in or wen’ out — I dunno which. 
’Laid it all out in gin wiff frien’s o’ mine, and we 
did ’ave a time t’ dream of. Never thort I cud ha’ 
swallered such oachings o’ gin; but I did, an’ the 
thust as was on me nex’ mornin’, dearie, you’d 
never believe.” 

“But isn’t it bad to drink so much,” asked Marie, 
rising timidly. 

“Fur sich es you es is a flower it is,” agreed 
Mother Slaig, rolling out of the chair and getting on 
her feet with an effort, since she was so stout, “but 
not fur me, es ’as a ’ard time, dearie. You’ve fun’ 
me sober thro’ me not ’aving — where’s that there 
quid y’ promised?” she demanded suddenly. 

“There,” said Marie, taking the money from her 
pocket, “but don’t drink it away, Mrs. Slaig. It’s a 
pity such a nice woman as you should drink gin.” 

“Well, I don’t git no shampin down ’ere, dearie,” 
said Mrs. Slaig crossly, and, like Jotty, biting the 
gold to make sure it was genuine. “We taikes 
what we can. Wan’t t’ know anythin’ else, lovey 
dovey ?” 

“No,”. answered Marie, walking into the passage, 
for the smell and closeness of the place was making 
her feel faint. “But you needn’t tell anyone what I 
asked you about.” 

“Sha’n’t nohow,” said Mother Slaig firmly. 
“Y’ve browt back daiys when I was a pretty girl 
and ’ad all the men arter me, furious-like. You’re 
a breath o’ fresh air an’ a smell of country roses, 
an’ a sight o’ green fields, t’ yours truly, dearie. An, 
never a word shell I say, save as you’re a visitor 
with tracts — tho’ you ain’t guv me one, but summit 
better.” Mother Slaig felt for her sovereign as she 
spoke. “But if there’s police, dearie, an’ I ’as t’ 
saive m’ bacon, I mus’ speak.” 


2s6 the peacock of jewels 


‘There will be no trouble with the police/’ Marie 
assured her in a low and hurried voice, for her 
friendly constable was just at the end of the pas- 
sage. “Good-bye, Mrs. Slaig.” 

“Go’bye, dearie,” she attempted a curtsey, but 
failed for want of breath. “ ’An bless y’ fur an 
angil o’ delight wiff stars roun’ yer ’ead.” 

Marie laughed and hurried away in the shadow 
of the policeman, who refused to accept a tip. 
Again she was passed from one constable to an- 
other, until she regained the station, and every one 
of her temporary guides declined money. 

“The most chivalrous men in the world,” said 
Marie afterwards, “are London policemen!” and 
she never changed her opinion on this point. 


CHAPTER XVII 

SECRET 

CqNSiDRR|i^Q that '\va§ inexperienced in 

wprdly m^tt^rs, sl^e ^ct^d with e^ti'^prdinary fore- 
sight and detetrnip^tign. pe^ gifls wopld h^YP 
risked th^t jpprpey to th^ Rptherhithe slum, or 
wptdd h^ve cQpducted t{ie interview with Mother 
Sl^ig sp dispreetly, Certainly h^r ^UP^y star was 
ip the ^3cepd^nt when §hp hlUPged intq those 
rpalodorous depths, ^s she had been guarded fropi 
all peril by the various policemen- hut h^r own 
diplomatic behavior h^d aecorriplished the in^Qb^ 
sible with the old harridan, Marie returned hPP^o 
with thP Mi h^bef tMt Mpi'^d-Bakche wa^ tbe 

guilty person, since he desired tP obtain pgsse§sion 
qf the pepcQck, gnd he had been haunting tbe hpr^se 
wher^ip Baldxyin Crfispn resided- That Sorley had 
held the bird — a fact vouehed fpr by — rshe 

helieved was due tP the Pl^chip^tipns pf Miss Qri- 
spn, whp evid^Ptly was wPlkiug in concert whh 
the Ipdian tP Tpiri the rri^n. Apd Pakche’s reward 
would he pos^es^iqn of tbe jewels^ ^ippo Mane 
fancied the deftd plan’s sifter fiad possibly guessed 
the fiddle of the qrn^rpept, If thi^ was sp^ there 
w^S np peed for either of the conspirators to retain 
possession qf the pegeochj since if h^d yielded up 
its secret- 

^ith this ide^ M^^ie C^tue hack to Lewes, and 
there she sept a telegr^rn to Ajan asking him to 
come dpwu the next day. She was anxious to irn- 
part her disepvery to her lover, apd tP §hpw hlui 
that she also was able tP help in the ^T^tter of tf^r 
cing Grispn’s ^ss^ssjn^ and obtaining the treaspre. 


258 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


On the evidence she had discovered concerning Bak- 
che’s presence at Rotherhithe, a new departure 
might be taken relative to the conduct of the case. 
But Marie felt that she could venture no further 
along the dark path unassisted, and therefore 
wished for Alan’s co-operation. She knew that the 
telegram would bring him to her at once, and re- 
tired to bed with the conviction that he would lose 
no time in coming to Belstone. Of course on her 
return, she had to answer numerous inquiries from 
granny and the maids as to what she had been 
doing, but managed to answer without stating too 
plainly what her errand had been. She was very 
weary when she placed her head on the pillow, and 
fell asleep almost immediately. 

Fuller duly arrived by an early morning train, 
and it was ten o’clock when Marie — who was watch- 
ing for him like a veritable Sister Anne — saw him 
walk up the avenue. She rushed out of the house 
and led him into it, hanging fondly on his arm, 
* while asking innumerable questions. 

^^Oh, darling, I am so glad to see you. And how 
are you? and when did you arrive? and how long 
are you going to stay? and will we go into the 
library? and what have you in that black bag?” 

The young man laughed at her eagerness, and 
was surprised to see how gay and happy she looked, 
which was indeed remarkable, seeing that Sorley 
was in such straits. He replied to her questions in 
sequence. “I am quite well, dearest; I arrived an 
hour ago, and walked direct from Lewes to you, 
not even troubling to go to the vicarage ; I shall stay 
for the whole day, as I want to be with you, and 
have much to tell you ; we may as well go into the 
library for a purpose which I shall explain soon; 
and in this bag I have the peacock of jewels.^’ 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


259 


‘‘Oh,” cried Miss Inderwick greatly astonished, 
“how did you get it?” 

“Mr. Sorley left it in my chambers last night.” 

“Then you have seen Uncle Ran?” 

“Yes; and so has Latimer.” 

Marie looked nervous. “Mr. Latimer doesn’t like 
Uncle Ran,” she said thoughtfully, “but I hope he 
has not given him up to the police.” 

“Your Uncle Ran gave himself up of his own 
accord,” said Alan grimly, “but repented at the 
eleventh hour and made his escape.” 

“I’m glad of that,” remarked the girl thankfully, 
“as I believe Uncle Ran is quite innocent. But why 
did he give himself up at all?” 

“I don’t know, no more than I can say why he 
changed his mind and bolted, my dear. However, 
I can tell you the whole story if you will listen.” 
And when Miss Inderwick signified by a gesture 
that she was all ears. Fuller detailed all that had 
taken place on the previous night. By this time 
they were in the library with the door closed, and 
Alan related his story seated in a deep armchair 
with Marie balancing herself on the table. 

“Poor dear Uncle Ran,” she said when Fuller 
ended ; “he wished to give that horrid Miss Grison 
a chance of confessing her guilt.” 

“Confessing her guilt! What do you mean, 
Marie?” 

“I mean that she knows more about the murder 
than she admits, and that she is in league with that 
nasty Indian to ruin Uncle Ran.” 

Alan shook his head gravely. “You can’t be 
sure of that, Marie.” 

“But I am,” she insisted positively. “Mr. Bak- 
che knew that Mr. Grison was at Mother Slaig’s 
and went there heaps of times. She saw him.” 


26 o 


The peacock Of jFWFls 


‘•■fltJW do J'dii ktioW?” asked Alan; surprised by 
her decided tone. 

•'‘iBeeaUBi^ she tbld herself. Of edurse she 
didn’t know his hanie, bUt hei* description is ex- 
actly the same as yours— haughty > dark aild-^ — ” 

‘"‘Marie! MaHe! HoW do ydii know this?” 

‘"‘Because I visited Mother Slaig yestetday;” 

Fuller looked staftled-. “Darling yoU never went 
by yoUtself to see that dreadful bid hdg?^’ 

‘‘Yes, I didj and I don’t think she’s so vety 
dreadful. She was Vefy nice tb me irt every Wayj 
and What she told me only ebst a sbvereign.” 

“Matie, you shouldn’t have gone to Rotherhithe 
without telling me.” 

“If I had you would have stopped me,” pouted 
Miss Inderwickj “and I did so want to do some- 
thing to help Uncle RaU;” 

“But has yoUt- visit helped him? Mother Slaig 
may be wtong about Bakche, and may have mis- 
taken a lasear for him.” 

“There was no question of mistaking anyone^’ 
retorted Marie quickly^ “for Mother Slaig did not 
know the name. I described Mr. Bakche as you 
did, and she said that she had seen a man of that 
description— the snake man she called him;” 

“The snake man,’^ repeated Alan swiftly. Why?” 

“On his right arm from the wrist to the elbow he 
had a snake tattooed in spirals.” 

Fuller Slapped his knee, and spoke e:Jtcitedly. 
“Mother Slaig is right, dear, and so are you. Miss 
Grison told me that Bakche had sUCh a mark*” 

“Then he must have been at Rotherhithe and 
known Mr. Grison,” said Miss Indefwiek. 

“Certainly; Sinde Mother Slaig Would Otherwise 
have known nothing about the tattooed snakei Tell 
me exactly what she said, Marie/’ 


THE PEAQOQK OP JEWEIS 261 


Mi^s Ii|4efwick 4^4 §Q^ OffiUtirig nothing, and 
shortly Fuller was in possession of ^11 hu4 
taken place at Rotherhithe. The recital so e5?:eit^d 
}iim th^t he rqse to his feet ap4 begap to the 
roorn. Bakche denieh tb^t be visited Rotherr 

bitbe, or kpew Grispn,” he Grie 4 , “Marie ypU b&ve 
undoubtedly foup 4 valuable evid^UPe which may 
help to clear your uncle’s character, I admit that.” 

“J ^m quite sure that Unple R^p is inpocent, and 
that Miss Grispn is copspiripg with Mr. Elpkche tp 
ruip hipi,” said M^ne firmly. 

Alap shoob bis head. “No, deqr, J dop’t tbipk 
that there is qpy conspiracy between tbept. If 
Bakche gaiped the peacopb by murder,, he eertaiply 
would pot have sept it to your uncle. Apd if Miss 
Qrisop finew that he had the bird, she must have 
guessed that he stabbed her dearly-beloyed brother, 
Jp that ease she would have denoupeed hirp. Of 
eourse, she denies haying brought the peacocb dowp 
here; but if she did, Baidwm gave it tp her before 

his death.” 

“And if she did not, Mr. Bakche must have sent 
it.” 

“Why should he do that?” 

“To get Uncle Ran into trouble.’^ 

“My dear, Bafiche did not wish to get Mr. Sorley 
into trouble. All he desired, ^nd still desires, is tQ 
obtain the peacockT 

“Then why did he haont Rotherhithe?” 

“To get the peacock,” repeated Alan- “ap 4 if 
he did get it, he certainly would not h^v^ givep it to 
your uncle. No, Marie.” Fuller shrnggpd his 
shoulders. “What you have discovered impUP^tes 
Bakche plainly epougfi, but it does pot solye the 
rnystery of the death. That is as great a riddle as 
eyer.” 


262 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


''What is to be done now, then?” asked the girl, 
fuming at the judicious way in which her lover 
talked. 

"We must tell Inspector Moon about Bakche’s 
visits to Rotherhithe, and then the Indian can be 
questioned. I shall do that to-morrow. Mean- 
while — ” Alan opened the black bag — "look at 
this.” 

Marie greatly admired the peacock, as it was the 
first time she had set eyes on the beautiful object. 
The glitter of the gold, the radiance of the many 
gems appealed to her feminine love of color, and 
she clapped her hands with delight when the gor- 
geous ornament glowed like a rainbow-hued star in 
the sunlight. The lovers sat down and admired the 
luck of the Inderwicks, which held a secret hard to 
solve, a secret which would, if guessed, bring a 
fortune to the last member of the family and restore 
the faded splendors of the line. The girl with her 
eyes fixed on the treasure, murmured words from 
the ancient prophecy: — 

“Jewels and gold from over-seas 
Will bring them peace and joy and ease.” 

Alan nodded. "If that is applied to this bird,” 
he said slowly, "it is perfectly true, since the rid- 
dle, when guessed, means a gigantic fortune. You 
will be a wealthy woman, Marie, and then I shall 
have some hesitation in keeping you to your en- 
gagement.” 

"Oh, Alan, darling, why?” asked the girl jump- 
ing up in dismay. 

"People might call me a fortune-hunter.” 

"I don’t see how they could, seeing that you love 
me now when I have next to nothing. And if the 
fortune is found it will be through you, dearest, so 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 263 


you will have a right to share it. And after all/’ 
ended Marie earnestly and inconsequently, “what 
does it matter what people say seeing that we love 
one another?” 

Alan kissed her. “That being the case, Marie, I 
promise you that no wealth shall part us. But had 
we not better put the peacock away?” 

“Won’t we try and solve the riddle ?” 

“It’s impossible. I’ve tried in every way to do 
so, and am still quite in the dark as to how that 
jewelled bird can indicate the hiding-place.” 

Marie took up the luck of her family and turned 
it round upside down, and looked at it from every 
side. “It does seem impossible,” she confessed with 
a reluctant sigh. “I suppose we must give up try- 
ing to guess its riddle for the present. Where shall 
we put it, Alan?” 

“In the cupboard, I suppose,” said the lawyer 
carelessly, and pointing to the dark oak press, out 
of which Sorley had produced the peacock when 
it first appeared on the scene; “it has always been 
there.” 

“If so,” said Marie shrewdly, “someone — Miss 
Grison for one — may know where to find it, and she 
is quite capable of telling Mr. Bakche who is in 
league with her, I am sure. No, Alan, I shall put it 
along with Uncle Ran’s private collection of gems,” 
and she moved towards the panel marked with a 
cross, which Fuller remembered very well. 

“Can you open it, Marie?” he asked, walking 
beside her to the place. 

“Yes! See!” She touched the hidden spring, 
and the panel slid aside into its groove. “Uncle 
Ran showed me how to work this before he left, 
in case — as he said — he should never come back.” 

“Hum!” muttered Alan, staring into the dark 


264 TIIE peacock OP JEWELS 


rtttss With its many shelves, **he seems to have hiS 
doubts as to whether his innocence Will ever be 
di^arly ptoved; Put the peacock back oil th^ table, 
Marie, and let us look at the gems. If ybUt uiicle 
does hot retUtU they bdohg to yoU.” 

“Ye§, he said that,” replied Miss IilderWick, put- 
ting down the peacock hear the black bag. “MaUy 
of the gems are boUght with my money. I always 
thought that you Were hard on Uhcle Ran, dear ; he 
saved hioney for me.” 

“Marie, I have every wish tb think well of ybuf 
Ufiele,” cbhfessed Alan, “but it seems to me that he 
does riot act quite straightly. Fbr brie thing he 
undoubtedly tteated Miss Grison Vety badly, and 
- - ” Fuller checked himself, as it did riot seem 

riecessafy at the moment to reveal the strange truth 
regarding the woman’s claim to be Mrs. Sotley. 

“Arid what, dear?” asked the girl innocently. 

“Nothing. I shall tell ybU later. Let us think 
the best We cari of ybUt uncle, and examine his 
gems. I have seen them before, but I should like to 
admire them again. Bring the trays to the table, 
Mafie.” 

The gid did so, arid tray after ttay Of jewels was 
placed in the flood of sunshine Which streamed 
through the windows of the room. Until the whole 
table glittered With rainbow fifes. When the 
shelves were empty, Marie put her hand iri arid 
groped round tO see if she had missed any gem. 
Suddenly she Uttefed an exclamation, arid brought 
out a long steel instrument. With a silver handle set 
With rough turquoise stories. “Oh, Alan, look at 
thiS^ dear/’ she said, bringing it to her lover. 

Fuller Stafted and ffowned, remembering hOW 
Grison had been stabbed with a slender iristfUriient, 
a stiletto for choice. And here was a stiletto in the 


THEJeACOCK of JFWELS 265 


secret hiding-place of Sdfley’s jt\vels. There was 
blood on the handkj and the yoiing nian looked dt 
it with a shuddeh Was Sorley gUilty after all, and 
were these stains the life blood of Baldwin Grisbh? 
It would seem so, he tlioUght; and his thoughts 
showed themselves iil his face, for Marie uttered ah 
exclamation and grew pdle. “Oh Alail, deafj you 
don’t think that, do you?” she asked piteously; 

“Think whatj deaf,” he asked in his tufUj aUd 
evasively. 

“That Uncle Ran murdered Mr. GfisOn with that 
stilettO;” 

She had made use of the vefy wofd mentioned at 
the inquest; “It looks like itj dear,” said Fuller 
sadly. “The evidence showed that Gfisoh was 
murdered With a weapon of this sort, and how that 
We find it in a secret place knowh only to yolif 
uncle 

“Miss Gfison know^ it also,” cried Mafie, detef- 
niined to believe nothing against her relative. 

“We can’t be sure of that, deaf. And if she did, 
she would not have placed the Weapon thefe. Yoli 
mrely don’t think she killed her brOthef?” 

“Oh nO; oh no. Still, if ohly to revenge hefself 
oh Unde Ran because he— as she says— ruined 
Mr. Gfison, she may haVe 

“Marie, it is no use building Up theofies,’^ inter- 
rupted Alan firmly; “tile presence of this stiletto 
looks bad, I don’t deny. Still Mr. Sofley may have 
some explanation to make of its pfesence.” 

“I am sUre lie is innocent, and will retUfn to 
explain everything/’ said Mafie obstinately. “Noth- 
ing will ever make me belieVe that Unde Ran 
killed the poof thing; We won’t think anything 
more about the mattef Until he comes back,” she 
ended, and returned the stiletto to the hiding-plaee. 


266 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


“If he ever does come back/^ murmured Alan 
under his breath, for he looked on the presence of 
the weapon — and stained with blood as it was — as 
a very good proof of the man’s guilt. However, so 
as not to vex Marie, and because he could not, in 
legal words, prove his case, he made no remark. 
For the next quarter of an hour they examined the 
gems, and, becoming absorbed in this one and that, 
(so beautiful were the objects), both quite forgot 
the discovery of the stiletto which seemed to in- 
criminate the collector. 

Marie tried the effect of several jewels against 
her fair skin and admired herself in the mirror over 
the fireplace. Amongst the loose ornaments — for 
some of the gems were set in gold — she found a 
curious ring of silver entirely circled by precious 
stones. “Isn’t that odd, Alan,” she asked, slipping 
it on her finger, “and how uncomfortable to wear, 
dear. The stones go right round and hurt one so 
between the fingers. Oh !” she pulled it off, “I could 
never wear that with pleasure. Perhaps it is a nose 
ring — one of the Begum’s treasures.” 

Fuller examined the object, which was a broad 
band of silver set with gems at various intervals, 
entirely round its circle. “It’s not of Indian work- 
manship, Marie,” he said, after a pause; “there’s an 
English look about it. I wonder why the stones 
are set all round it, though?” 

Marie peering over his shoulder pointed out a 
point that had escaped Alan’s attention. “See, there 
is a letter,” she observed, “it’s a ‘K.’ Look, Alan, 
between that bit of coral and that pearl.” 

“So there is. I wonder what 'K’ means,” Alan 
mused, then threw back his head trying to remember 
something. “I have heard of a ring set round with 
stones before/’ he said thoughtfully, “and it was 


THE PEACOCK OP JEWELS 267 


explained to me why the gems were all over it. 
Who has that ring? Oh!” — a memory suddenly 
came into his mind — “it was my grandmother wfho 
showed it to me when I was a tiny boy. It was 
a golden ring with six stones, and each meant a 
letter.” 

“How do you mean meant a letter, dear?” asked 
Marie, greatly puzzled, “and what word did it 
make?” 

“Regard,” answered Alan carelessly, “the first 
word of each stone-name gave the meaning: Ruby, 
emerald, garnet, amethyst, ruby again, and dia- 
mond.” 

“Regard,” repeated Marie, clapping her hands. 
“Oh, how clever. You must give me a ring like 
that some day, Alan. Only we’ll have love on it. 
Lapis lazuli, opal, and — and — what precious stone 
begins with W,’ Alan?” 

“There is none,” he said smiling at her earnest- 
ness, and glancing at the silver ring he still toyed 
with, “no more than there is a gem beginning with 
‘K.’ I expect the maker of this ring chose a word 
which contained that letter, and as he could not 
suggest a stone, engraved the word on the silver in 
this fashion. Strange that he had not more fore- 
sight.” 

“Let us see what the word is, Alan,” cried Marie 
much excited, “begin with the letter ‘K.’ That’s 
a start. Next is a piece of coral — that’s ‘C’ 

“Then an opal standing for ‘O,’ another piece of 
coral ” 

“C,” said Marie anxiously, “an amethyst for ‘A,’ 
an emerald for *E’ ” 

“And a pearl for T.’ The word therefore reads 
K. C. O. C. A. E. P. And that, my dear, makes 
nonsense,” finished Fuller with disgust. 


^68 THn PEACOCK QF JEWELS 


‘'Sp^ll it backwards,” suggested the girl^ “we m§iy 
^s well try all ways.” 

Almost before she ended, Alan, following h^r 
advice, h^d arrived at the truth swiftly. “Pe^- 
Qopk!” sliout^d, “M^rie, this ring w^s m^de by 
Simon Perrier.” 

“But it isn’t of Indiap workmanship/’ she pro- 
tested. 

“No; but Perrier, although he learned frQpi 
Indi^lt jewellers, w^s an English workman hrst of 
all. Peacoek”-T-he twirled the ring— “Dnrhng, I 
really truly believe that we have discovered the 
secret.” 

“Oh Aian! oh Alan!” the girl shrieked in her 
excitement and ran tq the table quickly, “I see your 
meaning. We these stones in the tail and—” 

“And read thern as we have done those of the 
ring, making the first letter of each stone stand to 
spell the word. 

“Yes! yes! yes!” Marie clapped her hqnds. 
“But there is more than ope word in thqt t^il) Al^n. 
Oh — perhaps it indicates the hiding-place?” 

“I’m sure it does,” cried Fpller, taking out a 
pencil. “Marie, read out the stones ip order, be- 
ginning ^t the top, and I’ll set them down.” 

Almost too excited to speak, the girl did so \vith 
spprkling eyes, ^nd the result when finished Avas as 
follows, with the three lines and the triangle of 
rubies, indicated plainly : 

A 

Sapphire, Turquoise, Pe^rl, pmerald, Turquoise, 
Emerald, Ruby, Sapphire, Pearl, Opal, Onyx, 
Lapis lazuli. 


Ruby, Emerald, Diamond. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 269 


Alan rapidly set down in order the first letter of 
each stone^ and Marie, looking over his shoulder saw 
that they read thus : — 

PETER’S POOL A RED’^ 

‘^Oh/’ she cried with a grasp. 

“St; Peter’s Pool, the triangle, red,” murmured 
Alan, still perplexed, till the feminine intuition of 
the girl cartie to his aid. 

“It’s the well,” she cried, “Si Peter’s Well iti St 
Peter’s Dell, can’t you see. The jewels are hidden in 
sortie place marked with a red triaugle. Oh I am 
sure of it, because the wdrd is ‘red,’ and the stones 
of the triangle are rubies*.” 

“By heaven, Marie ! I believe you are right;” 

“Of course I am; Siinon Perrier came back to 
England to hide the jewels;” 

“No Marie, he returned to give them to Juliari 
Inderwick. But since that man Was a profligate and 
would have squandered them, Perrier evidently hid 
them somewhere about St Peter’s Well, or pool, a^ 
he calls it on the tail of the bird, and marked the 
hiding-place with a red triangle; Arid of course, if 
George Iriderwick had been able to read the riddle 
he would easily have found the gems. My Word !” 
Alan stared at the golden bird, now reft of the secret 
it had held for so long, “and to think that the solu^ 
tion is so easy after alt Why those rings such as 
I have described my grandmother having, are by 
no means rare.” 

“I believe Simon Perrier did make this silver 
one,” said Marie, fingering the article thoughtfully, 
“since it is a kind of key to the riddle;” 

Alan shrugged his shoulders. “I believe that 
George Inderwick found it as hard to guess as the 


S70 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


mystery of the peacock. At all events he never 
arrived at the solution of the thing. And so easy, 
so easy after all.” 

‘‘Perhaps the very ease made it difficult to guess,” 
suggested Marie. 

“Like Columbus and the egg,” laughed Fuller, 
taking back a tray of gems to the hiding-place. 
“Let us put these away, Marie, and then go down to 
the well. We must close the panel in case that man 
Moon left behind should come in and learn too 
much.” He was thinking of the stiletto as he 
spoke. 

“Oh, that is all right,” said Miss Inderwick, assist- 
ing to replace the jewels; “he went away this 
morning. Inspector Moon sent him a wire saying 
he was to go back to town.” 

“Oh!” said Alan thoughtfully, as he closed the 
panel, and it resumed its innocent look. “I expect 
Moon has given up all hope of Sorley returning to 
this place. Well, I expect he is right. It would be 
foolish of your uncle, dear, to thrust his head into 
the lion’s jaws.” 

“I am sure he will return and prove his inno- 
cence,” cried Marie resolutely; “and won’t he be 
pleased when he learns that we have found the 
Begum’s jewels, Alan?” 

“We haven’t found them yet,” answered Fuller, 
determined in his own mind that whether innocent 
or guilty the man should not meddle with the girl’s 
property. “Let us go and look, Marie. Ask 
Henny or Jenny for a crowbar.” 

“What for?” 

“We must pry up the stone under which the 
treasure is hidden. I expect, as you suggest, that it 
is marked with a red triangle.” 

“I don’t expect we have a crowbar,” said Miss 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


2yi 


Inderwick dubiously, but went into the back part of 
the house on her errand, nevertheless, while Alan 
took his way to St. Peter's dell. He surveyed what 
Ferrier had called “The Pool” in his cryptogram, 
and expected that he had done so, since there was no 
gem’s name beginning with ‘W” which he could 
have placed in the peacock’s tail. The man had 
engraved the letter “K” on the ring as a hint to his 
master, as was evident, but had not taken the same 
liberty with the peacock, since it might solve the 
riddle too easily. 

“And hang it, how easy it was after all,” said 
Alan, who could not get over this point. Then, 
while awaiting the coming of Marie, he surveyed 
the well. 

There it was, standing amongst the still leafless 
trees, and amidst the rank slushy grasses, a circle 
of stone, surmounted by the wooden canopy with 
its mellow red roof. The windlass was rotten with 
age, and the rope, formerly used to wind up the 
bucket, was conspicuous by its absence, as was the 
bucket itself. Fuller peered into the depths and saw 
the water far down twinkling like a star in the 
uncertain light, which filtered to the depths. The 
sides of the well were of massive masonry, green 
with moss and slime, while the circle above ground 
was overgrown with herbage. In the hope of find- 
ing the marked stone, he began to tear away the 
grasses and briars and ivy, scratching his hands 
considerably as he did so. To save these he put on 
his stout deerskin gloves, which he fortunately had 
slipped into his pocket. Marie found him thus 
occupied. 

“We have a crowbar after all,” she cried, bending 
under the article she mentioned, along with a spade 
and a coil of rope. “One of the workmen who was 


2J2. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


building ^ new wall at the back of the house, left 
it a year ago.” 

•‘Why have you brought the rope, Marie 

‘■I thought you might have to go down the well/’ 
she said quickly, “we can fasten it to the windlass.” 

Alan eyed the same dubiously. “I fear it’s too 
rotten to support us, or rather to support me,” he 
remarked; -‘and we may not have to explore the 
depths of the well.” 

“The pooh the pool,” cried Marie, throwing down 
her load; “why do you drag away those grasses, 
Alan ?” 

He explained, and she saw the necessity of helpr 
ing, although tP save her tender hands he transferred 
his gloves to her. The two, buoyed up with the hope 
of treasure went to work with a will and soon the 
cemented circle of gray stones round the well was 
quite bare. Alan searched, as did Marie, hut on no 
stone, could they find the desired red triangle. 

“It must be down the well,^’ said Fuller with a 
shrug; “but I’m not going to trust that rotten wind^ 
lass.” 

^‘Tie the rope to this tree,” said Marie pointing 
to a young beech which was growing close to the 
opening^ and, as Alan thought this was an excellent 
idea— he gave her a kiss for the suggestion— he fast- 
ened the rope to its trunk and then made a slipr 
knot, which he bound under his arms. ^‘Now dear 
take a turn on the rope round the tree and lower me 
gently^ that will prevent the strain being too great.’’ 

‘T hope so,” said Miss Inderwick, doing as she 
was told. 'T don’t want you to be drowned.” 

Alan slipped over the edge of the well, and the 
rfipe grew taunt from himself to the beech, where the 
several twists round the trunk stopped the drag 
being too great on Marie. Nevertheless she felt 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


273 


anxious when she saw her lover disappear into the 
dark depths. 

“Oh do take care, darling,” she cried holding on 
to the rope at the part beyond the twists round the 
beech-tree trunk, “do take care.” 

A laugh came up which sounded very clearly, for 
Alan was only a few feet below the surface. He 
looked round and round, twisting himself with his 
hands, and thrusting his toes into the crevices of the 
stones to gain foothold, and not to strain either 
the beech-tree’s strength or that of the girl. But the 
moss and the lichens grew so thickly that he could 
not see the surface of the stonework, and therefore 
could espy no triangle. And small wonder, since it 
was over one hundred years since the treasure had 
been stowed away by Inderwick’s faithful servant. 
“I wish I had a knife,” muttered Alan, and Marie 
heard him. 

“Get out of the well, and I’ll fetch one,” she said 
fastening the rope to the tree trunk firmly; “I 
sha’n’t be a minute,” and she flew up the path. 

“Bring a carving-knife,” Alan shouted after her, 
getting his head above the surface circle of stones, 
and Marie waved her hand to show that she heard 
him. But he did not get out of the well, as she 
advised, but braced his feet and shoulders against 
the masonry and continued his examination. But 
when she returned with the knife he was still at 
fault. 

“Clever darling,” he said, taking the carving-knife 
and dropping down again. Then he went to work, 
while Marie called out every now and then from the 
beech-tree to know if he was safe. Everywhere he 
scraped the moss off the stones and laid bare one 
row after the other, but for at least one hour he 
failed to find what he sought. He was just thinking 


274 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


that it would be as well to get out and have a rest, 
particularly as Marie was imploring him to do so, 
when suddenly she heard him shout. 

‘^Dear, have you found it?’' she cried, not daring 
to leave the rope or the tree, lest the first might slip 
from the last. 

“Yes! yes. Here is the red triangle marked on 
the fourth row of stones — on one big one, that is. 
Tie up the rope, Marie and give me the crowbar. 
I won’t need to descend further.” 

The girl did as she was told, and leaning over the 
edge of the well, handed her lover the crowbar. 
Already Alan had worked away at the interstices 
of the marked stone with the knife point. He 
deepened these sufficiently to slip in the point of the 
crowbar, which was rather blunt, and then began 
to strain in his effort to loosen the block. Marie 
anxiously looking down, heard him breathing hard 
with the effort, and implored him to take a rest. 
But Fuller was too anxious to find the treasure to do 
so, and with aching arms and legs — for he was 
resting his weight on them with his toes in a crevice 
— worked away desperately. Little by little, the 
mortar in the interstices of the block crumbled, as 
he drove in the crowbar, and finally the stone became 
so loose that he could ease it with his fingers. Again 
he shouted, and this time with relief, as the big stone 
splashed down into the dark waters below. 

“Have you got it, Alan ?” cried Marie, quite sick 
with excitement. 

“Yes, I think so.” He was feeling in the dark 
hole which the displaced stone had revealed; “but 
it doesn’t seem to be very much. Only a small box. 
Oh Marie, there can’t be many jewels in this.” He 
handed up as he spoke a tin box of no great size, 
which Marie received with manifest disappointment. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 2751 


and went on groping. However he found nothing 
else, so emerged from the well, with his clothes 
considerably damaged, and with a red perspiring 
face, for the task had made him quite hot. 

‘‘How can we open the thing?” asked Marie, when 
they sat on the edge of the well to examine the box, 
“It’s locked.” 

“Pooh ! it’s only tin,” said Alan, and looked rather 
annoyed. “What a sell if this little thing contains 
the whole treasure.” 

“Perhaps it’s a big diamond,” said Marie, watch- 
ing her lover pry open the locked lid with the edge of 
the spade. 

“Perhaps,” assented Alan dubiously, and worked 
away hard. It was not an easy job, in spite of the 
box being merely tin, but in the end he managed to 
get the lid off. “Huh ! it’s only papers.” 

And that was all. Papers wrapped up in linen to 
preserve them from damp, though the box was dry 
enough, since it had been hermetically sealed by 
the stone block. One paper, on examination, proved 
to be a statement signed by the Begum and Rajah 
of Kam and their vizier, saying that the jewels, 
which were enumerated, had been given to George 
Inderwick because he had saved the life of the 
royal woman and her son. Then there was a letter 
to Inderwick written by Perrier, which stated that 
he had placed the jewels in Yarbury’s Bank, Monks 
Lane, Cheapside, London. “To be given up to 
you when you produce to Mr. Yarbury the peacock 
of jewels,” ended the instructions. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE TREASURE HUNT 

‘‘Have you the papers, Alan ?” 

“Yes dear.” 

“And the key which came out of that box ?” 

“Yes, dear.” 

“Then I have the golden peacock in this bag of 
Uncle Ran’s,” ended Marie, quite satisfied that all 
was well. 

With Fuller she occupied a first-class carriage of 
the London express from Lev'eSj and the two had 
it all to themselves, since Alan had bribed the guard 
to keep out other passengers. As the lovers were 
so excited over their solution of the riddle and their 
discovery — if not of the treasure — at least of certain 
evidence that the same existed, it was little to be 
wondered at that they could ^alk of nothing else. 
Hence the necessity for a compartment all to them- 
selves, for they did not wish anyone else to know of 
their newly-acquired fortune, until it was in their 
own possession. Then Alan intended to advertise 
the affair far and wide through the medium of the 
daily newspapers, so that Mr. Sorley — wherever he 
might be — should become cognizant of the fact, as 
well as Mr. Morad-Bakche. It was just as well to 
let both these gentlemen know that Miss Inderwick 
had the jewels, and intended to keep them. Fuller 
was quite certain that he could safeguard her in- 
terests in every way, should the Indian try to gain 
what he had come so far to seek. As to Mr. Sorley, 
that gentleman being in his present straits, scarcely 
counted. But Marie wished him to know the truth, 
276 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 277 


as she believed he would then return. Alan was 
of a different opinion. 

On the previous evening there had been great 
excitement at the vicarage when the lovers returned 
from their investigations and told the story of how 
they had guessed the riddle together, besides 
narrating, with much wealth of detail, the search 
down the well. Both Mr. and Mrs. Fuller had 
expressed the greatest surprise, as well they might, 
and both congratulated Marie on her good fortune. 
If indeed the jewels — as was hinted in Ferrier’s 
story — were worth from one to two hundred thou- 
sand pounds, she would indeed be able to restore the 
family prestige and repair The Monastery, And 
then, as Marie intimated firmly, she intended to 
become Alan’s wife, a declaration which Mrs. Fuller 
received with unfeigned joy, as she loved Marie as 
fondly as though she were her own flesh and blood. 
The vicar also was gratified, as of course if his son 
became the Squire of Belstone, that fact would help 
him greatly in controlling the parish. 

On the whole they had a very happy evening, and 
when Marie returned to The Monastery, she could 
not close an eye. Also next morning when Alan 
met her to catch the express, she informed him that 
she had heard strange noises during the night, and 
had been rather terrified. But of these things the 
two did not talk much until they were travelling 
towards London, and until Marie had assured her- 
self that both she and Alan possessed the necessary 
articles to secure possession of the jewels. There 
was the letter of Simon Ferrier, and the signed 
agreement that the gems belonged to George Inder- 
wick, besides a curiously shaped brass key which 
was supposed to open the box of gems now at 
Yarbury’s Bank, Monks Lane, Cheapside, London. 


278 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


Finally Marie held tightly on to the bag which 
contained the golden peacock without the produc- 
tion of which she would not be able to take the 
jewels away, as she intended to do. 

“And I only hope,” said Alan, when they were 
both satisfied that all was in order, “that Yarbury's 
Bank is still in existence.” 

“Oh, Alan! I hope so. Why shouldn’t it be?” 

“Well the jewels were deposited there one hun- 
dred and fifty years ago more or less my dear, and it 
is possible that the bank may have smashed. There 
have been plenty of panics during the century.” 

“What would have become of the gems had the 
bank smashed ?” asked Marie in a timid and rather 
tearful voice, for it was a terrible thought to think 
that her dreams might dissolve into thin air. 

Alan shrugged his shoulders. “Really, my dear, 
I can’t say. They might be passed on to another 
bank, or might remain with the reconstructed old 
one. On the other hand they may have been stolen 
and dispersed. I never heard tell of Yarbury’s Bank 
myself; but then I am not closely acquainted with 
what goes on in the city.” 

“I daren’t think of it not being there,” shuddered 
Miss Inderwick. “Oh it would be a shame if we lost 
everything at the eleventh hour.” 

“Well,” said Fuller with a philosophy he was 
very far from feeling, “let us hope for the best, and 
talk of other things until we arrive at Monks Lane. 
These noises, Marie? weren’t you dreaming?” 

“No, dear, no. Certainly not. I was wide awake. 
I fancied I heard a scream; it sounded like the cry 
of a woman in distress. Then there were footsteps 
— muffled footsteps far below. Of course The 
Monastery is haunted, so I thought it was the 
ghosts.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 279 


“Are there more than one?’’ asked Alan, sup- 
pressing a skeptical smile. 

^‘Oh yes. There are two monks, and one cavalier, 
and a lady who has no head at all,” said Marie 
solemnly. “Granny knows all the stories, and some 
of them are just horrid. This morning when I told 
her about the noises, she said that Henny and Jenny 
and she had heard them several times during the 
last week, but she believed they were only the 
ghosts. Granny is quite proud that we should have 
them, as we are such an old family.” 

Alan shuddered. “Well, dear, I sincerely hope 
that when we live at The Monastery, these uneasy 
spirits will take their departure. I don’t believe 
in ghosts; all the same, I don’t like odd noises. 
Marie,” he sat up suddenly as a thought struck him. 

“I know what you’re going to say, Alan,” she 
cried quickly. 

“What?” He looked at her sharply. 

“That the noises might have been made by Uncle 
Ran.” 

“Yes I did, my dear. It is just possible that he 
may have come back secretly to The Monastery, 
knowing that Moon would not search there. And a 
very good idea it would be if he did ; safe as houses.” 

Marie shook her head solemnly. “No. If Uncle 
Ran had returned he would have let me know, since 
he could be certain that I would not betray him. 
And he would require food and drink, which would 
be another reason for him to let me know he was 
hiding. No, Alan. I tell you the cry I heard was 
that of a woman, and I believe that Miss Grison is in 
the house.” 

Fuller stared. “What on earth put that into your 
head?” 

“Well, she knows all the secret passages and 


280 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


chambers of The Monastery better than I do, since 
she lived there for so long before I was born. As 
Uncle Ran had the peacock, she may have thought 
that he left it behind, and may have come down to 
steal it. She uttered that cry I am sure.” 

‘T don’t think so,” said Fuller scouting the idea, 
*‘She wouldn’t be such a fool, Marie. However, 
when we have been to Yarbury’s Bank — if the 
blessed place still exists, that is — we can drive to 
Thimble Square, and see if she is in or out of 
London.” 

“She’s out of it, and in The Monastery,” cried 
Miss Inderwick very decisively, “It’s no use talking, 
Alan, I am sure it was she I heard screaming. And 
if she is there — which I am sure of — she will prob- 
ably let that horrid Indian into the house, so that 
he can take the peacock. I sha’n’t sleep there to- 
night, Alan, but at the vicarage, I don’t want to be 
murdered by that Mr. Bakche as he murdered 
poor ” 

“Marie, that is all theoretical.” 

“I don’t care, it is true,” insisted Marie, and 
although Fuller argued the point until they arrived 
at Victoria Station, she still held to her opinion, 
rather to the young man’s annoyance. He had not 
thought Miss Inderwick was so obstinate, and told 
her as much in a most provoking manner, whereat 
the girl pouted. Of course Alan had to kiss her into 
a more amiable mood and admit that he was entirely 
wrong, and make sundry apologies for being the 
most disagreeable man in the world. The two were 
driving along Piccadilly in a taxi, before this comedy 
was finished, as such comedies always do, with the 
subjugation of the stronger by the weaken “And 
you’re quite horrid, aren’t you?” finished Marie, 
pinching his arm. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 281 


^'Quite,” admitted Alan gravely. 

“And I’m an angel.” 

“Rather ; an archangel if you like I” 

“Then I forgive you, dear. No, don’t kiss me. 
You’ll spoil the set of my hat, and make the driver 
turn round. And — and — oh Alan,” she suddenly 
dropped her bantering tone and became anxious. 
“I do hope Yarbury’s Bank is in existence. Where 
did you tell the man to drive to?” 

“Monks Lane, Cheapside, dear. As he is doing 
so, thank heaven that is yet in existence. So much 
we have to be thankful for.” 

In Cheapside, and at the entrance of a narrow 
side street which the driver assured them was the 
lane in question, they alighted, and walked down it 
after the taxi had been dismissed. Both Marie and 
Alan crooked their necks staring upward to see the 
much-desired name; but not finding it, the lawyer 
asked an office-boy who came out of a near building 
if he could direct him to Yarbury’s Bank. To the 
relief of the couple, an answer came terse and sharp, 
that it was number twenty, just round the corner, 
which meant that the place was situated where 
the lane suddenly, so to speaks crooked an 
elbow. 

“Oh thank goodness!” murmured Marie, when 
they came face to face with a very dingy building, 
black with age and grime, and wedged in between 
two tall houses which overtopped it considerably. 
“It’s Yarbury’s !” 

“Sure enough,” replied Fuller, staring hard at the 
wire blinds — half blinds they were— which dis- 
played the magic name in dull gold letters. “Cheer 
up, Marie ; since the bank is here, we are certain to 
find the treasure.” 

“I hope so,” answered the girl doubtfully, “but 


282 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


I shall believe nothing until I see the gems with my 
very own eyes/^ 

Alan laughed, and led the way into a broad and 
low room of vast proportions filled with mahogany 
counters, protected by shining brass railings, and a 
number of desks, high and low, with shaded electric 
lamps over each; for the place was darkish even at 
noon. A number of clerks were busy with the usual 
business of the bank, and two or three customers 
were paying in, and drawing out money. On in- 
quiring if the manager could be seen, a message was 
sent and an answer received that the great man 
would accord an interview to the strangers. Alan 
sent in his card and that of Miss Inderwick, and 
after another short delay the two were conducted 
into a fair-sized room at the very back of the build- 
ing, to be welcomed by an elderly gentleman with 
white hair and a brisk expression. He was small 
and neat and very well dressed, and his manners 
were scrupulously polite. Yet as he placed a couple 
of chairs for his visitors, Alan noticed that he cast 
a curious glance at Marie. 

‘What can I do for you?” he asked, addressing 
himself to Fuller. 

“You are the manager of Yarbury’s Bank?” in- 
quired Alan rather unnecessarily, but anxious to be 
quite sure of his ground. 

“Certainly. Berwick is my name, and I have 
been in charge for some years.” 

“It is a very old bank, isn’t it?” asked Marie 
timidly. 

“Very, my dear young lady!” 

“One hundred and fifty years more or less,” put 
in Fuller suddenly. 

“More rather than less,” said Mr. Berwick with 
a genial smile, “but how do you know, Mr. — er,” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 2^3 


he g-lanced at the card lying on his table, ^‘Mr. 
Fuller?’’ 

‘‘If you know the name of Inderwick, Mr. Ber- 
wick, you may have some idea of how I come to 
know.” 

Again Berwick cast a look in Marie’s direction. 
“Inderwick! Yes, I do know that name. It was 
mentioned in the newspapers some little time ago, 
and had to do with a murder case connected with 
Rotherhithe.” 

“And with a peacock,” said Marie quickly. 

“Yes.” Berwick scratched his chin meditatively. 
“It was supposed — I am quoting from the news- 
papers — that the man at Rotherhithe was murdered 
for the sake of the peacock, not a living bird, of 
course, but a certain ornament.” 

Marie nodded. “Which is the luck of our fam- 
ily,” she finished. 

“Oh, then you are one of the Inderwicks of 
Belstone?” 

“Yes,” said Alan slowly, “she is the last repre- 
sentative of the family, and the heiress of George 
Inderwick. Do you know that name?” 

“I do,” assented Berwick alertly. “On reading 
the newspapers it led to my recalling certain trans- 
actions, which — but pardon me.” Mr. Berwick in- 
terrupted himself, “how can I be sure that this is 
Miss Inderwick?” 

Marie was about to indignantly assert that she 
alone had the right to the name, when Alan pre- 
vented her. “That is a very natural question, sir,” 
he remarked, opening the black bag, “perhaps this 
will assure you of the identity of this young lady.” 

Berwick stared when the peacock in all its glitter- 
ing glory was placed under the electric light, and 
his ruddy face grew a trifle pale as he pushed back 


284 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


his chair uneasily. “It’s the peacock,” he muttered. 

“You know about the peacock then?” questioned 
Alan sharply. 

“Yes! When taking- charge of the affairs of 
Yarbury’s Bank I looked into all business old and 
new; also searching amongst old documents and 
examining deeds and papers dealing with various 
transactions which are in our strong-rooms below. 
I came across the account of the peacock, and the 
meaning of the peacock, belonging to George In- 
derwick, although a certain box which had to do 
with that bird was placed here by Simon Ferrier.” 

“Inderwick’s servant,” said Alan dryly, “hum! 
it seems to me that we are on the right track, 
Marie.” 

She nodded again, but Mr. Berwick, who still 
seemed much perturbed, moistened his lips and 
spoke unsteadily. “I can certainly supply you with 
information, which I can guess you require; but 
before doing so, I should like to send for Inspector 
Moon.” 

“But why ” began Marie hotly, only to be 

interrupted by her lover. 

“I quite understand what you mean, Mr. Ber- 
wick,” he said calmly, “and, of course, under the 
circumstances, it is necessary that you should take 
every precaution to safeguard the interests of the 
bank.” 

“Precaution, Mr. Fuller?” stammered the man- 
ager uneasily. 

“I also,” continued the lawyer imperturbably, 
“have read the account in the newspapers of the 
interview with Miss Louisa Grison. She declared 
therein that if the peacock were discovered, the 
assassin of her brother could be brought to justice. 
Is that not so?” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 285 


‘^Yes/’ admitted Berwick readily, “it is so/^ 

“Since we have brought the peacock, which it is 
necessary to do, in order for Miss Inderwick to 
obtain possession of the box deposited here over one 
hundred years ago by Simon Ferrier, you naturally 
wish to know how we come to possess itd^ 

“But surely Mr. Berwick doesn’t think that we 
murdered Mr. Grison to obtain this,” said Marie 
indignantly, touching the glowing splendor of the 
bird. 

“No! no! no!” the manager assured her hastily, 
“nothing was further from my thoughts, my dear 
young lady. But, as Mr. Fuller sensibly observes, 
it is necessary for me to safeguard the interests of 
the bank.” 

“All the same you did think that I or Mr. Fuller 
had killed Mr. Grison,” persisted Marie, her obsti- 
nacy again coming uppermost. 

“No! really, really ” 

“Never mind,” remarked Alan impatiently, and 
cutting short the man’s protestations, “it is natural 
that Mr. Berwick should suspect us, in the face of 
Miss Grison’s statement. Better send for Inspector 
Moon, who has charge of the Rotherhithe case ; and 
also I must ask you to send to the office of The 
Latest News for Richard Latimer.” 

“Why?” asked the man rising and staring. 

“Because he can prove how I became possessed 
of the peacock.” 

“I shall do what you ask, and you will excuse 
me,, Mr. Fuller, if I am rather punctilious in dealing 
with the matter.” 

“I quite understand, Mr. Berwick. The affair is 
an odd one, and when we tell you what we know, 
you will find it even odder than you suspect. In the 
meantime, please telephone for Mr. Latimer and 


286 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


Inspector Moon, mentioning my name to both of 
them, and Miss Inderwick’s also, if you like.” 

With a look of wonder written all over his ruddy 
face Berwick departed and personally telephoned 
for the two necessary persons in question. Marie 
rather fumed while he was absent, as woman-like 
she expected to be taken as genuine on her bare 
word. “He thinks we are swindlers,” she said 
crossly. 

“And small blame to him,” rejoined Alan good- 
humoredly, for it was evident that the gems were 
all right, as he judged from Berwick’s hints. “You 
can’t expect the man, my dear, to hand over thou- 
sands of pounds worth of jewels without making 
inquiries.” 

“The peacock is enough,” said Marie stubbornly. 

“The peacock is the cause of the trouble,” retorted 
her lover; “but here is Mr. Berwick. Well, sir?” 

“I have received a reply from both,” said the 
manager, resuming his seat, and looking apologetic- 
ally at Marie, “they will be here as soon as possible. 
Pardon me taking these precautions, and perhaps 
while you are waiting for Inspector Moon and Mr. 
Latimer, you will explain how you came to find out 
that the box of Ferrier was in our bank?” 

“We guessed the riddle,” said Marie suddenly. 

“Oh !” Berwick looked at the peacock in a puz- 
zled way. “I knew from what the newspapers said 
that there was a riddle to be solved, although I 
can’t see what this golden ornament has to do with 
it. Did you not know that the box was at Yarbury’s 
Bank?” he addressed Miss Inderwick. 

“No; nor did anyone else, Mr. Berwick. Only 
when Mr. Fuller and I guessed the riddle did we 
learn the whereabouts of the box. It is here then ?” 

“Certainly,” Mr. Berwick assured her promptly. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 287 


‘‘and has been here for over one hundred years. 
When I looked into matters on taking charge of the 
bank, I, like all former managers, became acquainted 
with the fact that a box of jewels had been deposited 
with us by Simon Ferrier on behalf of his master, 
George Inderwick, shortly after the Battle of Plas- 
sey. We have the letter of instructions concern- 
ing it.” 

“What are the instructions?” asked Alan. 

“The box of jewels is to be held by the bank 
authorities, whom I at present represent, until some- 
one brings a certain golden peacock studded with 
gems, certain papers explaining the peacock, and 
others dealing with the transfer of the jewels from 
the Rajah and Begum of Kam to George Inder- 
wick, and finally a key which will fit the box.” 

Marie looked at Alan, who brought out the ob- 
jects named. “There you are, Mr. Berwick,” and 
he placed them under the manager’s very nose. 

“Oh, ah, excuse me,” said Berwick, deeply inter- 
ested at the sight of the old documents, and forth- 
with devoted himself to reading them. As the 
English was odd, to say the least of it, and the 
handwriting was crabbed — apparently that of a 
somewhat uneducated person — he was some time 
deciphering what was before him. Both Marie and 
Alan waited his pleasure quietly. “I am quite 
satisfied,” he said when he finished his reading, 
“that these are the necessary papers, and the key 
can speak for itself if it fits the lock of the steel box. 
Meanwhile, and until our two friends arrive, Mr. 
Fuller, perhaps you and Miss Inderwick will explain 
how you came to guess the riddle which is referred 
to in the letter from Simon Ferrier to his master.” 

“And you can tell him also how we come to have 
the peacock,” said Marie, who still felt annoyed by 


288 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


the suspicious attitude of Berwick, although that 
was considerably modified by the production of the 
papers and the key. 

^‘No,” said Alan decisively, ‘'I shall tell that when 
Moon and Latimer arrive ; there is no need to repeat 
the story twice. But it will serve to while away the 
time if we tell Mr. Berwick about the riddle.” 

'‘Certainly it will,” said the manager in a lively 
tone ; “and don’t be angry with me, Miss Inderwick, 
I must protect the interests of the bank, you know.” 

Marie smiled and began to be somewhat ashamed 
of her irritation. “You must excuse me, Mr. Ber- 
wick,” she said cleverly, “but the discovery of my 
fortune has somewhat excited my nerves,” 

“Very natural, very natural indeed. Well, Mr. 
Fuller, what about the riddle?” 

Fuller lost no time, but related the various stages 
by which he and Marie had been led to guess the 
mystery of the peacock’s tail. He produced the 
silver ring by way of illustration, and finally con- 
vinced Mr. Berwick of the manner in which the 
secret had been discovered. “And the annoying part 
of the whole business,” concluded Alan, “is that the 
riddle is so easy.” 

“When guessed, Mr. Fuller, when guessed,” said 
Berwick staring at the peacock, “but I assure you 
that I don’t wonder it has been hard to solve, and 
had not the accident of the silver ring, or rather 
that of the letter ‘K’ on the silver ring led you to 
the truth, I doubt if you would ever have solved 
it.” Berwick still eyed the bird steadily. “Most 
extraordinary! Ferrier was too clever, however, if 
I may say so ; he concealed the treasure so well that 
the man he intended to benefit never did. Fate — ” 
he bowed gallantly to Marie — “ reserved the gems 
of the Begum for fairer hands.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 289 


‘Then you will give me the box,” said Marie, 
timidly. 

“Of course; it rightfully belongs to you, since 
you have fulfilled the conditions of Perrier’s letter 
of instructions to the then manager of Yarbury’s 
Bank. Here is the key, the peacock, the letter of 
Perrier to his master, and the assignment of the 
jewels to the same person by the rulers of Kam. 
Oh yes. Miss Inderwick, the fortune is yours, and I 
congratulate you.” 

“What is the value of the jewels?” asked Alan 
abruptly, and drawing a breath of relief when he 
heard this speech. 

“Really I can’t tell you, Mr. Puller. There is no 
mention of their value in the letter of instructions, 
and of course the box has never been open, since 
only the key you have brought can do that. 
Then ” 

Berwick was interrupted by a clerk entering with 
a card inscribed with the name of Latimer, and 
Dick entered all alive with curiosity to hear why 
he had been summoned to such an unexpected place. 
After greeting Miss Inderwick and his friend he 
began to ask eager questions, which Alan proceeded 
to answer, until Inspector Moon arrived a few mo- 
ments later. The officer opened his eyes wide when 
he saw the golden peacock on the table. 

“How did it come here?” he asked suspiciously, 
and looked at the company. 

Berwick explained the circumstances of Alan and 
Miss Inderwick’s visit, and gave both Moon and 
Latimer an account of the trust held by Yarbury’s 
Bank. Then Puller explained more directly about 
the peacock. 

“Sorley called at my chambers on that night he 
escaped,” said Alan, addressing the astonished in- 


290 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


spector. “Mr. Latimer and I took him to Miss 
Grison as he wished her to acknowledge certain 
things. He intended to give himself up, but — as I 
learned — he ran away at the eleventh hour. Have 
you arrested him yet, Mr. Inspector?’^ 

“No. We have searched far and wide, but he is 
still at large. Still, Mr. Fuller, this explanation 
doesn’t show how you became possessed of the 
peacock.” 

“Mr. Sorley left it behind in this black bag,” said 
Alan readily, “you may remember, Mr. Inspector, 
that when you were taking him away, he called out 
to me to remember the black bag. I did not know 
what he meant, but when Mr. Latimer and I re- 
turned to our chambers, we found the bag there, and 
in it the golden peacock.” 

This seemed satisfactory to Moon, especially as 
Latimer vouched for the truth of the story. “Sor- 
ley is undoubtedly guilty,” he remarked, and Alan 
had to press Marie’s arm to prevent her bursting 
out with an indignant denial, “but you should have 
brought the peacock to me.” 

“Not at all, Mr. Inspector,” said Fuller coolly 
and resolutely, “that is the property of Miss Inder- 
wick here, and was stolen by Miss Grison over 
twenty years ago, because she thought that Mr. 
Sorley had treated her brother in a cruel way. It 
is only just that it should return to its owner, and 
I don’t think that you can take possession of it.” 

“No,” said Moon reluctantly, “I suppose not, 
since Miss Inderwick certainly possesses it legally, 
and came by it — according to your story, vouched 
for by Mr. Latimer — in a perfectly honest way. I 
understand from hints given, Mr. Fuller, that you 
have solved the riddle alluded to by Miss Grison in 
her published statement.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 291 


‘^Have you, Fuller?” asked Latimer in excited 
tones. 

^^Yes. Marie and I found it out, more by accident 
than in any logical way, Dick. See here!” and to 
Moon and the other man Fuller explained the 
method pursued, and showed the meaning of the 
precious stones in the tail of the bird. Berwick 
chuckled and rubbed his hands at the astonishment 
displayed by the newcomers, then quietly left the 
room. While Moon and Latimer were still express- 
ing their surprise, and examining the bird, Berwick 
returned with one of the clerks carrying a good- 
sized box. 

“Here are the jewels,” he said expansively, when 
the clerk had been dismissed, and the box was placed 
on the table. “Use the key. Miss Inderwick.” 

They all crowded round to admire the box, which 
in itself was really curious and artistic. It was of 
polished steel, greatly tarnished by damp and age 
and sundry batterings which might be ascribed to 
its career in India before Ferrier had used it to store 
the jewels. The steel was enclosed in a network of 
delicate brass, scrolled and twisted and plaited and 
woven in a most elaborate manner. It was deep 
and rather large, which augured well for the quan- 
tity of gems it contained. Marie with a fluttering 
heart inserted the key, while the others looked on 
eagerly. She had some difflculty in turning it, since 
the lock had not been used for so long; but Alan 
aided her with his strong wrist, and with a click 
the key did its work. Then appeared the sandal- 
wood lining of the box and a rich piece of Indian 
silk covering the contents. Miss Inderwick twitched 
this away, and a cry of amazement and admiration 
rose from everyone. In the glare of the light a 
perfect glory of color and radiance flashed out. 


292 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘‘Why, there must be a million pounds' worth," 
muttered Moon, astonished. 

He might well say so, for the sight was enough to 
bewilder a miser. No pearls were visible, as they 
would have lost their color in the long darkness to 
which the gems had been submitted. But there were 
emeralds, rubies, sapphires and opals of many hues. 
Some of the precious stones were loose and polished, 
while others, also loose, were uncut. Still many 
jewels were set in various golden and silver orna- 
ments, such as nose-rings, bangles, anklets, brooches, 
belts, and adornments for the head. Four trays 
piled with these treasures were lifted from the box, 
and at the very bottom, lying on a pad of rose- 
colored silk, were many loose diamonds glittering 
with multi-hued fires like the suns of innumerable 
solar systems. It was a royal heritage that Marie 
had entered into possession of, and worthy of a 
princess. 

“And all for you and me, Alan," she whispered, 
joyously slipping her hand into that of her lover. 
“No more trouble now, dear." 

“Well," said Moon, reflectively. “I don’t wonder 
that Sorley risked his neck for an Arabian Nights’ 
heap of jewels of this sort." 

“He did not," cried Miss Inderwick, who could 
not be restrained this time; “my uncle is perfectly 
innocent." 

“For your sake I sincerely trust that he is. Miss 
Inderwick," said Moon in grave tones ; “and I hope 
he will prove your trust in him by giving himself 
up to the law. But this is not the time or place to 
talk of these things, and I do not wish to spoil your 
pleasure in inheriting a fortune of gems sufficiently 
beautiful to make a queen envious." 

“I shall devote the fortune to proving my uncle’s 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


innocence,” said Marie haughtily and stubbornly. 
“In the meanwhile, Mr. Berwick, put the box back 
in your strong-room along with the peacock.” 

“Don’t you wish to take it away with you?” asked 
Alan quickly. 

“No. I don’t like those noises in The Monastery, 
and I am sure that Miss Orison and that horrid 
Indian have something to do with them. If I took 
the gems down she and he would steal them.” 

“Noises,” repeated Inspector Moon reflectively, 
“and in Mr. Sorley’s house?” 

“It is my house,” said Marie quickly, “and if 
Miss Orison is down there, I shall order her out.” 

“You will be quite right in doing so. Miss Inder- 
wick,” said Inspector Moon with a bow, “and now 
I shall take my leave with renewed congratulations.” 

He went out repeating under his breath the word 
“Noises!” and Alan overhearing guessed that Ma- 
rie’s statement had aroused his suspicions as to the 
whereabouts of the much-wanted Sorley. He hoped 
that, after all, these same noises were due to Miss 
Grison, and felt anxious to call at Thimble Square 
after the box of gems and the peacock had been 
carried back to the strong-room of Yarbury’s Bank. 

“Let us visit Miss Grison now, Marie,” he said 
when they were in Monks Lane again, with Dick 
beside them. 

“You won’t find her at home,” said Latimer. “I 
called, but she has gone away.” 

Marie turned triumphantly to Alan. “There!” 
she cried, “what did I tell you, my dear ? That hor- 
rid woman is hiding in The Monastery after all.” 


CHAPTER XIX 


AT DAWN 

It had been Alan’s intention to send Marie back to 
Belstone by herself, and ask his father to meet her 
at Lewes, so that she could sleep at the vicarage. 
He had spent a great deal of time over the business 
connected with the murder of Orison and the find- 
ing of the jewels, therefore his clients were being 
neglected, much to their annoyance. His days of 
searching could scarcely have said to have been 
wasted, since they had ended in the acquisition of a 
fortune. Certainly it did not belong to him, but as 
he was to marry the girl who possessed it, in the 
end he would undoubtedly benefit. All the same he 
decided that he would have to attend to his own 
affairs, and it was only the fact that Miss Orison 
was not at Thimble Square, which caused him to 
change his mind. He therefore returned to the vil- 
lage with Marie, and what is more, insisted that 
Dick should return with him. 

“We must get to the bottom of these matters,” 
said Alan late that afternoon; “and if Marie will 
not sleep at The Monastery, Dick, you and I must 
do so.” 

“Oh, Alan,” cried Miss Inderwick nervously, 
“why need you and Mr. Latimer do that when there 
is no need ?” 

“I think there is every need,” rejoined her lover 
dryly. “Your remark as to inexplicable noises has 
aroused Moon’s suspicions, and I should not be 
surprised if he either sent back that detective to 
keep watch, or came himself to-night or to-mor- 


m 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 295 


‘‘But how can our sleeping there alter Moon’s 
intentions?” asked Latimer. 

“I want to learn the meaning of these noises, so 
you and I, Dicky, can keep watch, while Marie is 
safe at the vicarage.” 

“If the noises are caused by Sorley,” said Dick 
leisurely, and rather uncomfortably, “and we find 
that he has gone to earth there, you can’t expect me 
to hold my tongue.” 

“Uncle Ran is innocent,” protested Marie furi- 
ously. 

“If he is — and I sincerely hope for your sake, that 
such is the case — it will be much better for him to 
come forward and face the worst. Otherwise, he 
will remain a hunted fugitive. Believe me. Miss 
Inderwick, by refusing to compound a felony — for 
that is what silence in this matter amounts to, as 
Alan will tell you — I am doing Mr. Sorley a greater 
service than you think.” 

“I agree with Dick,” said Fuller quickly, and 
before Marie could make another protest; “it is best 
to bring matters to a head. If Mr. Sorley is indeed 
hiding at The Monastery, he is bound to be dis- 
covered some time, especially after the unconscious 
hint you gave Inspector Moon, my dear.” 

“I don’t believe Uncle Ran is there,” declared 
Marie pouting. “If he were he would look to me 
to give him food and drink, and he knows — as I 
said before, Alan — that he can trust me. It is that 
horrid woman.” 

“If Miss Orison is there, all the more reason Dick 
and I should sleep in the house, and learn what she 
is driving at.” 

Latimer nodded. “I’ll come with you, Alan,” 
he said quickly. “Since Miss Orison is not in her 
house, it’s just possible she may be at Belstone.” 


296 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘'When did you call to see her?” 

“Yesterday afternoon,” explained Dick quietly. 
“I wished to learn how she knew that her precious 
brother had murdered a man outside Chin Chow’s 
opium den.” 

“Moon told her that, and she swore that Baldwin 
was incapable of such a wicked deed,” replied Alan 
with a shrug; “she seems to have a most touching 
belief in the creature, even though he is dead.” 

“Well, I learned that Miss Grison had gone away 
at noon for a few days.” 

“Where has she gone to?” asked Marie sharply. 

“Her servants could not tell me, since she has 
left no address. All she said was that she would be 
absent for a few days, and she left her establishment 
in charge of the head waiter.” 

“That secrecy shows that she is at Belstone,” 
cried Miss Inderwick triumphantly; “it is just the 
kind of underhand thing she would do.” 

“Well,” said Alan, settling the question, “she 
may suspect that Sorley is hiding in The Monastery 
and may wish to catch him. If she gets into the 
house, Dick and I can compel her to state her 
reason. But indeed, Marie, I don’t see how she 
could enter The Monastery without Henny or Jenny 
or Granny Trent seeing her.” 

“You don’t know what a curious house it is, Alan. 
There are ways of getting out and in and hiding and 
spying, which no one would believe. I know of 
some myself, but Miss Grison is better acquainted 
with the place than I, as Granny always said that 
she explored the house thoroughly when she was my 
mother’s companion. I’m sure you’ll catch her; 
and if you do, tell her that we have found the 
jewels. That will settle her.” 

“Nothing will settle her until Sorley is proved 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 297 


innocent or guilty/' said Fuller gravely. ‘The 
woman is obsessed by one idea, and that is revenge. 
I only wish we could find Jotty, for he knows a lot, 
I am sure, which could put things straight." 

“Jotty can't be found," said Latimer lazily, 
“although Moon and his underlings are keeping 
their eyes open. He hasn't gone back to Miss 
Orison’s or to Mother Slaig, either. He has 
vanished as completely as Mr. Sorley has. How- 
ever, we shall see what can be done by our sleeping 
a night in your old family mansion. Miss Inderwick. 
I'll come down." 

This being settled, the trio went to the station, 
and in due time arrived at Lewes. They talked 
during the journey about the jewels, and Dick had 
again to listen to the account of the solution of the 
riddle, in which, after all, he was so deeply interested 
that he did not object to the twice-told tale. Then 
Marie chattered about her good fortune, quoted the 
prophecy which certainly now seemed to be fulfilled, 
speculated on the amount of money which the sale 
of the gems would bring her, and talked of the im- 
provements she would make in her family mansion. 
All this may seem rather heartless, when her uncle 
was under a cloud of suspicion ; but the girl was so 
thoroughly convinced that the man was innocent and 
that her newly-acquired fortune would enable her 
to prove his innocence, by employing the best detect- 
ive talent to hunt down the true criminal, that she 
did not worry over the matter so much as might 
have been expected. Moreover, her uncle had 
always behaved selfishly to her, so she did not think 
that trouble would harm him for the time being. 
Indeed she hoped that it might improve him into 
something less egotistical. 

On arriving at Lewes, they found Mr. Fuller in 


298 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


person waiting for them in his pony-chaise, bubbling 
over with unexpected news. 

‘‘I am glad you have returned, Marie,” he said, as 
he assisted the girl to get in; “a man has been 
asking for you.” 

‘‘Who is he?” 

“An Indian gentleman called ” 

“Morad-Bakche,” interrupted Alan breathlessly, 
and with a glance at Dick. “What does he want 
with Marie?” 

“Perhaps he has learned that I went to Rother- 
hithe,” murmured Marie, but too low for the vicar 
to hear. 

“I don’t know what he wants,” said Mr. Fuller 
rather irritably, “he is stopping at The Red Fox, I 
hear, having come down this morning. He called at 
The Monastery to see Marie, and not finding her 
there, he came to the vicarage. He declined to be- 
lieve that Marie was in town, although Henny told 
him so. However I convinced him.” 

“You didn’t say why Marie had gone up, father,” 
said Alan, in alarm. 

“No! no. Why should I? I simply said that 
Marie would return, and Mr. Bakche is on the 
watch.” 

“Don’t see him, Marie,” said Alan quickly. 
“Dick and I can interview him privately and learn 
what he has come about. And father, Marie will 
sleep to-night at our house, since she is afraid to 
remain at The Monastery. I and Latimer stay 
there. 

“Why?” asked the vicar sharply. 

“Marie will tell you while you drive back to 
Belstone, father. We can’t all get into this small 
trap, so Dick and I will walk.” 

“Very good,” said Mr. Fuller gathering up the 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 299 


reins, “but tell me, both of you, about the jewels.” 

“We have found Yarbury’s Bank and the jewels 
also,” said Marie gaily,” I can relate our day’s ex- 
perience while you drive, dear Mr. Fuller. And, 
Alan, do come to the vicarage before you go to 
sleep at The Monastery.” 

“Yes; Dick and I can spend the evening with 
you and mother and father. Afterwards we can 
walk over to your house to sleep there. I shall call 
and tell granny — with your permission — to get a 
couple of beds ready for us. Only don’t you 
speak to Morad-Bakche, my darling; refer him to 
me. 

Marie nodded and waved her hand as the vicar — 
who was rather bewildered by all this mystery — 
drove the pony-chaise out of the station yard. The 
two young men braced their muscles and started on 
the five miles’ tramp to Belstone in very good spirits. 
Alan fancied, and communicated his fancy to his 
friend, that the presence of Bakche augured good, 
since the man undoubtedly knew something, and 
would be willing to impart it if he shared the for- 
tune. 

“But why should he?” objected Dick, lighting 
his pipe; “the assignment of the gems to George 
Inderwick puts him out of court.” ^ 

“Marie wants to use some of the money to clear 
her uncle’s name,” explained Alan gravely, “and 
although I don’t like Sorley, I am willing that she 
should do so. It will be worth the money.” 

“That depends if Bakche can say anything use- 
ful,” growled Dick doubtfully. 

“I am certain that he can, since he hinted some- 
thing of the sort to me. He knew Grison at Rother- 
hithe also, and knew that he had the peacock.” 

“No!” said Latimer, greatly surprised. 


300 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


“Yes, indeed,” and Alan related Marie’s daring 
visit to Mother Slaig, and what she had discovered 
regarding the movements of the Indian. 

“She’s a plucky girl,” said Dick, referring to 
Marie ; “fancy her tackling that horrible old woman. 
Hum! So Bakche was in the swim also, was he? 
I wonder if he murdered the man himself?” 

“I don’t think so ; but we can ask him, for here he 
is.” 

Fuller’s sharp eyes had seen the tall figure of the 
Indian almost running along the high road, and as 
the atmosphere was very clear he saw at some 
distance the brown tint of his face. Bakche met 
them quite breathless, and explained his haste. “I 
came down to see Miss Inderwick,” he said, rather 
short of wind. “I met her — in the carriage — with 
— the — the clergyman. She refers me to you — Mr. 
—Mr. Fuller.” 

“I am conducting all business on Miss Inderwick’s 
account,” said Alan in a quiet tone; “but why are 
you in such a hurry, Mr. Bakche?” 

“I thought that I might lose you. I stay at the 
village inn to-night, as I stayed last July; but I 
wish to see Miss Inderwick this evening, or you as 
her representative.” he looked hesitatingly at Lati- 
mer. 

“My friend knows all about the matter of the 
Rotherhithe crime,” said Alan quickly, “you can 
speak frankly before him.” 

“How do you know that I came down to speak 
of the crime?” asked Bakche in a haughty tone. 

“Because you know more about it than you have 
hitherto chosen to confess.” 

Bakche replied, still haughty,“I object to the 
word ‘confess,’ Mr. Fuller; I have no feeling of 
guilt in the matter.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


301 


“I don’t say that you murdered the man yourself, 
but you know who did.” 

'Terhaps I do,” answered the man significantly; 
'"‘but you can’t expect me to give you that informa- 
tion without payment.” 

‘‘Oh, if you want money ” 

Bakche flushed through the clear brown of his 
skin. “I do not want money, Mr. Fuller; a gentle- 
man of my rank does not take money. I only desire 
a share of the jewels which rightfully belong to me 
— the whole of them.” 

“I think not,” said Alan, while Latimer kept step 
beside him in silence, leaving his friend to adjust 
matters. “There was a proper assignment of the 
jewels made by the Rajah of Kam, the Begum and 
their vizier. All is in order, Mr. Bakche, and you 
have not a leg to stand on.” 

The man was silent for a few moments in sheer 
surprise at this very authoritative statement. “How 
do you know this, Mr. Fuller?” 

“I read the statement myself, and saw the jewels 
of 

“You saw the jewels,” almost shrieked Bakche, 
clenching and unclenching his hands; “then you 
have — you have ” he could speak no further. 

“Yes,” growled Dick, breaking his self-imposed 
silence, “Fuller and Miss Inderwick have solved the 
riddle of the peacock, and have found the jewels.” 

“Where are they ? where are they?” 

“In a certain bank in London,” said Alan quickly; 
“they are there now in Miss Inderwick’s name along 
with the peacock.” 

“So if you intended to burgle The Monastery,” 
growled Dick grimly, “you only waste your time.” 

Bakche drew himself up proudly. “You speak to 
an Indian gentleman, sir.” 


302 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


“I speak to a man who wants certain jewels, and 
who will stick at nothing to get them,” retorted 
Latimer bluntly; ‘‘how do we know but what you 
may have murdered Grison ?” 

“I did not; and,” added the man superciliously, 
“you will have some difficulty in proving that I 
did.” 

“I am not so sure of that, Mr. Bakche,” put in 
Fuller; “after all, Mother Slaig can prove that you 
frequently saw Grison at her house.” 

Bakche looked startled and turned gray. “How 
can she prove that?” 

“By means of that tattooed snake you have on 
your right arm.” 

“Ah-r-r-r ! So you have been making inquiries ? 
No,” Bakche threw up his hand with a haughty 
gesture. “I don’t want to hear what you have to 
say, for I admit that I often visited the house you 
mention. I knew that Grison had the peacock 
through his sister. She told me. I tried to get it 
from him, but he refused to surrender it. But I did 
not murder him.” 

“But you know who did?” 

“Perhaps,” said the Indian ambiguously, “only 
I shall not tell unless Miss Inderwick — as you sug- 
gested yourself, Mr. Fuller — gives me a portion of 
the jewels. If they did not belong to me rightfully 
I should not ask for even a part. I am,” he drew 
himself up again, “an Indian gentleman.” 

“Well,” said Fuller, who wished to be fair, “I 
don’t deny but what your family jewels being given 
away is hard on you. Miss Inderwick wishes to 
clear the character of her uncle, and will be willing 
to give you some of your own back — I expect you 
put it in that way to yourself — if you can denounce 
[the true murderer.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 303 


‘1 think I can.” 

“Are you not sure.” 

“I shall be sure if you can bring me face to face 
with that boy.” 

“Jotty?” cried Latimer, taking his pipe from his 
mouth. “I always said that the brat knew a lot.” 

“Yes. He knows a lot, and so do I,” answered 
Bakche smiling dryly. “However you must give 
me a night to think over matters. To-morrow I 
shall call at The Monastery early in the day, and if 
we can come to an arrangement you shall have your 
minds set at rest. Always,” ended the Indian taking 
off his cap, “always presuming that the boy is con- 
fronted with me.” 

“Do you hint that Jotty is guilty?” asked Fuller 
suddenly. 

Bakche, who was turning away, looked back with 
an enigmatic smile. “A weak arm can drive a 
stiletto into a sleeping man, as easily as can a strong 
one, sir,” and, still smiling, he walked off rapidly in 
the direction of Lewes, evidently objecting to 
further questions. 

“By heaven!” muttered Alan aghast, “he knows 
the truth.” 

“It seems so,” observed Dick with a thoughtful 
frown, “don’t go after him, Alan. He will tell us 
all to-morrow, and you needn’t be afraid of his 
running away, since his revelations mean that he 
gets a share of the gems.” 

“But we have to confront him with Jotty; and. 
where is the boy?” 

Dick shrugged his shoulders as they resumed their 
walk to Belstone. “Who knows? But even if he 
doesn’t appear Bakche won’t keep silent, for in that 
case he will lose his reward. Hum! I wonder if 
Jotty— as he infers — murdered Grison?” 


304 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘Well, Jotty is a greedy little beast, and admired 
the peacock. As he was a protege of Grison and 
could run in and out of his room at will, it might be 
that he stole in when the man was sleeping and 
killed him. Bakche seems to hint at that. And 
then,” added Fuller, warming to his theme, “re- 
member how Miss Grison took charge of the lad. 
Perhaps he gave her the peacock and the stiletto, 
which she took down to The Monastery to implicate 
Sorley and revenge herself on him.” 

“She denied plainly enough that she took the 
bird to Belstone,” replied Latimer, shaking his head, 
“and if Jotty had the peacock she would have 
guessed that he had murdered her brother. Seeing 
how she loved the man she would not have con- 
doned Jotty ’s crime in any way. No, Alan, I don’t 
agree with your theory. Better wait and hear what 
Bakche has to say and then we can be certain. But 
the stiletto ? I thought that was missing ?” 

“From Mother Slaig’s house,” said Alan quickly, 
“but Marie and I found it in the secret cupboard 
where Sorley keeps his own private collection of 
jewels. Either he is guilty, and concealed it there, 
or Jotty — who came to warn him — did so; or Miss 
Grison did in some way manage to get the weapon 
and hide it. But then her possession of it would 
certainly entail her knowing the truth, and she 
would not — as you said before — spare the murderer 
of the brother whom she loved so dearly.” 

“Perhaps Bakche is guilty and is using Jotty as 
a screen,” suggested Dick with a shrug; “however 
it is no use speculating, Alan. What we have to do 
is to watch to-night in The Monastery in the hope 
that Sorley has returned there, and to-morrow hear 
what the Indian has to say.” 

This was very good advice under the circum- 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


305 


stances, and the young men took this very natural 
course. They arrived at the vicarage in time for 
dinner after calling at the big house to arrange with 
Granny Trent about sleeping there for the night. 
All the evening the vicar and his wife asked ques- 
tions about the gems, and built castles in the air 
along with Marie as to the best use to be made of 
the money. Mention was made in the course of the 
evening by Mrs. Fuller that Miss Grison was stay- 
ing with her dressmaker friend, and when Alan 
and Dick left to take up their quarters at The 
Monastery, they felt convinced that the woman had 
some idea of the whereabouts of her enemy. 

‘^She’s on the watch,” said Fuller, as they walked 
to the big house, “and if Sorley really has returned 
to hide, she will smell him out. I daresay he treated 
her and her brother badly, Dick, for Sorley is an 
utterly selfish creature, and perhaps deserves what 
he has endured. But what a vindictive person Miss 
Grison is.” 

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” 
quoted Latimer sententiously, “and since Sorley 
scorned his true wife by making love to another 
woman, and used her love for her brother to free 
himself, you can scarcely wonder that she hates 
him as the devil hates holy water. She would be 
more than human if she did not. I am sorry for 
Miss Grison, or rather, as we should call her, Mrs. 
Sorley.” 

“She doesn’t want to take that name,” said Alan, 
shaking his head; “but if her husband gets off 
through Bakche’s evidence, she may do so in order 
to show him up and spite him. As long as Sorley 
lives he will have to pay for his behavior.” 

“Serve him jolly well right,” said Latimer grimly, 
and the conversation ended on the steps of the great 


3o6 the peacock OF JEWELS 


house, where Henny Trent stood to receive them. 

Granny was annoyed that her young mistress was 
sleeping at the vicarage, as she maintained that the 
noises were only due to ghosts, and that there was 
nothing to be feared. She scouted the idea that 
Sorley had returned, although she admitted that the 
old mansion was full of hiding-places where he 
could conceal himself. Her point was the same as 
Marie had mentioned, that the fugitive would re- 
quire food, and knowing that all in the house would 
be loyal to him, he would not have hesitated to re- 
veal himself had he actually sought refuge at The 
Monastery. The young men heard all these argu- 
ments passively, without seeking to contradict them, 
and then retired to bed wondering if granny was 
right and they were wrong, or if the reverse was the 
case. 

It is not quite precise to say that they retired to 
bed, for they did not remove their clothes, and 
simply lay down, ready to spring up when the noises 
called their attention. They wore slippers, however, 
instead of boots so as to move softly about the place, 
and thus pounce unawares on anyone — Miss Grison 
or Sorley — who might be haunting the place. “But 
if it is a ghost, Alan, all our dodging and prepara- 
tions won’t be of much use.” 

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” said Alan curtly. 

“I do,” said Dick with equal terseness, but was 
too tired to argue the knotty point, and then they 
lay down, clothed as they were, to snatch a few 
moments of sleep. 

Latimer certainly fell into a deep slumber, but his 
friend was too excited to follow his example. It 
occurred to him that if Sorley really were in the 
house and given to explorations by night, that he 
would assuredly haunt the library, if only to look 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


307 


at his beloved jewels. Hour after hour the young 
man dwelt on this point, and by the small hours of 
the morning had worked himself up to such a pitch 
of excitement that he could no longer endure in- 
action. Without disturbing Dick, who was sleeping 
in an adjoining chamber, he rose and stole down the 
stairs cautiously, making scarcely any sound, since 
he carried his slippers in his hand and walked in his 
socks. Also he had a revolver in his hip-pocket, 
lest tlie intruder should prove to be Bakche, admitted 
by Miss Grison through one of the numerous secret 
entrances. The Indian would be certain to show 
fight even if the woman did not. But of course, as 
yet Alan had heard no sounds, and was beginning 
to think that Marie’s report was due to imagination. 

He opened the library door cautiously, shading 
the candle he carried with his hand, after thrusting 
the slippers into the pocket of his tweed coat. The 
room was in complete darkness, as the shutters were 
closed, and there was no sign that anyone was about. 
However, as Alan assured himself once more, Sorley, 
if on the spot, would certainly come to the library, 
so the young man extinguished his candle, and 
concealed himself behind an Indian screen near the 
middle French window. Here he lay down on the 
carpet and waited patiently. 

An hour passed and then another, and the night 
wore on to dawn. Still the room was quiet and 
Alan at length began to feel drowsy, for his long 
vigil was telling on his tired body. Through the 
shutters he saw a thread of cold light, which showed 
that day was breaking, and heard the early outburst 
of song with which the birds greeted the dawn. 
He shifted himself into a more comfortable position, 
and closed his eyes, when suddenly he opened them 
again widely, and every sense intensified its power. 


3o8 the peacock OF JEWELS 


There was certainly a noise — that of shuffling foot- 
steps, hesitating, dragging, doubtful, as though the 
individual was in deadly terror of discovery. Then 
after a pause came the cautious opening of the 
library door, and Alan peering round the corner of 
the screen, saw a gleam of light. It came from 
a candle held in a man’s hand, and the glimmer 
shone faintly on the haggard face. The newcomer 
was Randolph Vernon Sorley, and he looked like 
a ghost of his former self, bowed-down, white-faced,, 
and lean. 

Closing the door he went to the cupboard where 
the golden bird had been found by him, and opened 
the same. In a moment or so Alan heard the sound 
of eating, and saw that Sorley was eagerly devour- 
ing food. Apparently in his prosperous days he had 
established a larder in the cupboard against the time 
when he might be hunted down. The sight gave 
Alan the idea that the man might be guilty after all, 
since otherwise he would not have prepared for such 
a contingency. However, there was small time to 
consider this reason and that, for Sorley having 
eaten, might slip away to his hiding-place, and then 
in the rambling old mansion it would be impossible 
to discover him. When the man left the cupboard 
and came to the table, he placed his candle thereon, 
took a long drink from a flask — it probably con- 
tained whisky and water — and then shuffled to the 
panel marked with a cross. Slipping this aside he 
held the candle so that he might admire his jewels. 
Alan thought it was now time to make his presence 
known in the least startling way possible. 

‘‘Mr. Sorley!” he said softly, and rising with 
caution. 

“Oh God!” gasped the man, dropping the light, 
and suppressing a scream, 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


309 


In the darkness Alan groped his way forward. 
“Don’t be afraid. It is Alan Fuller. I am your 
friend. 

“Alan/’ the young man heard the click of the 
door, and knew that the fugitive was making for his 
hiding-place. But he halted when hearing the voice 
and the name. “Alan,” said Sorley in the darkness, 
and his quavering voice hinted at relief. “Oh thank 
heaven you have come! How did you guess ” 

“Marie and granny heard certain noises,” said 
Alan quickly. 

“Yes,” muttered Sorley, lighting another candle 
which he apparently took out of his pocket, since the 
fallen one was lying near the panel. “I was not 
so careful as I should have been. But it could not 
go on for ever, so I am glad you have come, Alan. 
I want help,” his voice trembled piteously, “yes I 
want help to escape. 

In this turn the young man lighted the candle he 
had kept beside him, and in the radiance of the two 
tapers surveyed the broken-down creature before 
him, who looked quite his age, if not more. His 
face and hands were black with dust and dirt, his 
clothes were stained and torn, while his beard had 
grown considerably, and despair lurked in his sunken 
eyes. In place of the alert, soldierly man of yore, 
Alan beheld a trembling, shivering, cringing thing, 
wincing at every sound, shrinking from every 
shadow. Guilty or not, Sorley was surely paying 
in full for his sins, since the agony and terror of his 
soul was made manifest in his body. “And I am 
innocent,” he muttered again and again. 

“If you are innocent why do you wish me to help 
you to escape?” asked Mr. Fuller gravely. 

“Because I can’t prove my innocence,” said Sorley 
with sudden energy. “I am in a net woven by that 
infernal woman.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


“Your wife?” 

“Oh, so she told you that, did she? Yes, I admit 
she is my wife, and a bitter one she has been to me. 
But this is not the time or place to talk of these 
things. I could defend myself on that score if 
necessary, but there is no need. Place me in safety, 
Alan, and I can explain everything. You do not 
believe that I am guilty; surely you don’t?” and 
he looked piteously at the young man, shaking like 
a leaf. 

“No, I can’t say that I am absolutely convinced 
of your guilt,” admitted Alan cautiously, “but when 
you gave yourself up why did you run away again?” 

“I can explain that,” replied Sorley with a 
cunning look, “only give me time, and all will be 
explained. I got away in the fog and came down 
here on my motor bicycle which I had kept ready 
in town. Now I am hiding here in a secret place 
below the earth — down in the cellars. There are 
ranges and ranges of' cellars here, you know, Alan. 
I come up here at night to get food which long ago 
I placed in that cupboard” — he pointed to the 
recess with a trembling hand — “biscuits and potted 
meat, whisky and claret.” 

“That storage looks as though you expected to 
be accused,” said Alan dryly. 

Sorley nodded. “I was never sure of Louisa,” he 
muttered shuffling with his feet. “I knew she 
would get me into trouble some day, and she has 
done so. She is here now. Yes, I know that, for I 
saw her from a peephole yesterday evening wander- 
ing round the house. I daresay she entered it, for 
she knows all its secrets as well as I do. And if 
she finds me” — he gripped Alan’s coat — “she will 
give me up. I must get away; help me to fly 
beyond the seas until such time as I can prove my 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


311 


innocence. I won’t take the peacock with me,” he 
went on eagerly, ‘‘you can have that, and you can 
find the treasure. I shall only take my own jewels,” 
and he glanced at the panel which was still open. 

“The treasure has been found, Mr. Sorley.” 

“What — what — what!” the man would have 
fallen had not Fuller held him up. 

“Marie and I solved the riddle!” and to quieten 
the babbling creature Alan hurriedly related every- 
thing in as few words as possible. “The peacock and 
the jewels are now at Yarbury’s Bank, so things are 
all right in that respect, and Marie is now wealthy.” 

“She has the jewels,” muttered the old man 
jealously. “Oh, the beautiful jewels. They are 
beautiful, are they not, Alan?” 

“Don’t trouble about what is not yours,” said 
Fuller sharply,” what we have to do is to come to 
an understanding. Miss Grison is here, staying 
with Mrs. Millington, while Morad-Bakche is at The 
Red Fox, and I shrewdly suspect that Inspector 
Moon will come down this very day, since he guesses 
that you are here, because Marie let drop a word or 
so about the noises she heard. 

Sorley staggered to the door. “I am surrounded 
by my enemies,” he gasped, “but I sha’n’t give in. 
I shall go back to the cellars and hide myself.” 

Alan ran forward and grasped his arm. “No,” he 
said strongly, “you must act like a man, Mr. Sorley, 
and give yourself up. If you are innocent you need 
fear nothing, and I shall stand by you throughout the 
trial.” 

“The trial! the trial!” wailed Sorley; “no, no, I 
cannot, I dare not. Louisa is too strong for me, 
indeed she is. Unless he knows the truth.” 

“He. To whom do you refer?” 

“He — I mean — I mean — ah, you asked me why I 


312 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


ran away again after giving myself up. Stop here 
and you shall vee, you shall see with your own eyes, 
Alan, I swear you shall see,” and wrenching him- 
self free, Sorley flung open the door and passed 
hastily out of the room. 

Alan had half a mind to follow, since once hidden 
again, it would be difficult to discover the old 
creature. But then Sorley believed that he would 
help him, so Fuller was satisfied that he would re- 
turn, although he could not conjecture the reason 
why he had gone away. It seemed impossible for 
him to produce any proof to show why he had fled 
in the fog. Fuller determined to wait, and mean- 
while opened the shutters. The cold searching light 
of the morning penetrated the large room in a chill 
manner, and Alan shivered in the keen air when he 
opened the middle French window. But he did not 
shiver when the sound of Sorley’s returning foot- 
steps was heard and when the door re-opened to 
show the old man dragging a miserable object for- 
ward by the arm. 

“Jotty!” cried Alan with a bewildered stare. 

‘‘Yes, Jotty,” echoed Sorley; “and now you know 
why I bolted.” 


CHAPTER XX 


WHO IS GUILTY? 

The urchin presented a more dilapidated appearance 
than he had ever done before even when in his native 
slums as a street-arab. The neat serge suit with 
which Miss Orison’s kindness had supplied him was 
smeared with green slime and covered with cobwebs, 
besides being torn in many places. But Alan did 
not look so much at the lad’s clothes as at his face 
and figure, for he was terribly emaciated, and so 
weak, apparently with hunger, that he could scarcely 
keep his legs. When he saw Fuller he burst into 
tears, and Sorley allowed him to drop on to the 
carpet. 

“How does the lad come here?” demanded Fuller 
indignantly,” and what have you been doing to him 
that he should be in this terrible state ?” 

“He knows the truth,” snarled Sorley, who looked 
quite wolfish at the moment, and cast a vindictive 
look at his victim, “and I have been trying to starve 
it out of him.” 

“But y’ haven’t,” murmured Jotty feebly, game to 
the last, “gimme sumthin’ t’ eat an’ drink, mister, 
or I’m a goner,” and his head dropped as though he 
would die then and there. But Sorley only laughed 
at his sufferings. 

“I was certain that the boy knew the truth,” he 
declared savagely; “and when he came to warn 
me I lured him to the cellars and locked him up.” 

“Without food?” questioned Alan with horror, 
and knelt by the boy to put one of the biscuits 
Sorley had left on the table between his lips. 

313 


314 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


^'No, I fed him occasionally/' said the man sul- 
lenly, ‘‘but kept him short so that starvation might 
make him speak.” 

“But it didn’t,” murmured Jotty again, trying to 
eat the biscuit. 

“Little devil !” cried Sorley in a transport of rage. 
“I’ll make you admit that you are in league with 
that woman to ruin me before I’ve done. It was 
because you were locked in the cellar and no one 
but I knew where you were, that I bolted from Moon 
in London. If I had been locked up you would 
have died of starvation, and, bad as you are, I didn’t 
want that. And now you know,” he said defiantly 
to Alan, “why I changed my mind after giving 
myself up. It only occurred to me that Jotty might 
starve when I was in the cab driving to Bow Street 
with Moon. I therefore determined to get away in 
the fog, and I did.” 

“You should have told Moon where the boy was 
to be found,” said Fuller in sharp tones. “Hand me 
that flask of whisky; the boy is nearly dead.” 

“Oh I hope not, I hope not,” said Sorley in alarm, 
and anxiously watching the young man moistening 
Jotty’s lips with the powerful spirit. “I didn’t mean 
that he should die, for then he would take his secret 
with him, and I might be hanged through Louisa’s 
lies. As to telling Moon about the cellars, I wasn’t 
such a fool,” he went on in an injured tone. “I 
wasn’t going to reveal my hiding-place, which I 
knew would come in useful, if I were driven to ex- 
tremities. But I’m poor old man, and everyone is 
against me,” he ended sobbing bitterly. 

Fuller was too disgusted with the man’s behavior 
to say a word, but busied himself in feeding Jotty 
cautiously with biscuits soaked in whisky. The boy 
soon began to pick up, and eagerly demanded more 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 315 


food, which Alan refused to give him lest he should 
suffer from overeating, after being so long without 
nourishment. Besides he thought that the whisky 
might make him drunk, which was not to be thought 
of, since the boy had to give his evidence and tell his 
secret, whatever that might be. So while Sorley wept 
and maundered on about himself in an agony of 
self-pity, Alan lifted Jotty and placed him in a deep 
armchair. By this time the color had returned to 
the lad’s face, and he was much stronger for the 
moment, at all events, so Fuller thought that it 
would be just as well to question him. 

‘Why did you warn Mr. Sorley after betraying 
him to me?” he asked. 

“ ’Wanted quids,” admitted Jotty frankly, and 
with a malevolent glance at Sorley ; “ ’knew he’d 
pay t’ git awaiy fro’ th’ coppers. ’Said es he would, 
an’ tole me, es his cash was in his bloomin’ cellars. 
I was fool enuff t’ g’ daown, I was, an’ he shoved me 
int’ one of ’em an’ keeps me wiffout grub till I fair 
screeched wiff ’unger. But I’ll ’ave th’lawr of him, 
I will,” said Jotty vindictively and very humanly. 

“Why didn’t you escape ?” 

“ ’Couldn’t, nohow. Thet cove lock’d th’ beastly 
door, he did.” 

“Couldn’t you cry out?” 

“I cried and hollered till I was fair sick, but it 
warn’t no’ good, nohow, es I soon sawr, mister. He 
guv me grub et toimes t’ keep me fro’ becomin’ a 
deader,” acknowledged the lad grudgingly, “but he 
ses as he’d not feed me up till I tole. But I didn’t, 
you bet I didn’t.” 

“Tell what?” 

“The truth about the murder,” sobbed Sorley; 
“he knows it, the reptile.” 

“I dunno no nufhn;” murmured Jotty sulkily; 


3i6 the peacock OF JEWELS 


'‘give me another bisket, mister, ’cept y’ want t’ 
play the sainie game/’ 

Fuller gave him what he wanted, and a little more 
whisky and water to bring back his strength. Then 
he turned his attention to Sorley, and wondered 
what was best to be done. “You will have to sur- 
render yourself and stand your trial, you know,” 
said Alan firmly, “things can’t go on in this silly 
way, Mr. Sorley. 

The old man pitched forward, sobbing at Alan’s 
feet, while Jotty, who was now top-dog, grinned de- 
lightedly at his enemy’s downfall. Fuller stooped 
to pick up the wretched creature, and to repeat his 
determination when he heard Dick rushing down 
the stairs shouting his name. 

“Alan ! Alan ! Where are you ?” 

“In the library. Come in. What’s up?” 

Latimer burst into the room with dishevelled 
hair and untidy clothes, just as he had leaped 
out of bed, and evidently was greatly excited. He 
was on the eve of imparting the cause of his hurried 
coming, when he stopped short on beholding Sorley 
and the missing lad. “Well I’m hanged!” said 
Dick, and gasped with amazement. 

“I shall be, I shall be,” groaned Sorley still grovel- 
ling on the floor, “if Louisa has her way. And you 
hate me, Latimer, you know you do. You will give 
me up after all my trouble in coming back to hide 
here.” 

“Oh so you did hide here,” said Latimer slowly, 
“and Jotty?” 

“He lock’ me up, cuss him!” whimpered the boy, 
’cos I wouldn’t tell him things es I ain’t agoin’ to 
tell, nohow.” 

“What re ” began Dick wonderingly, when 

Alan cut him short. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


317 


‘‘You’ll hear later, old man. Meanwhile what’s 
up, that you rush in like a whirlwind ?” 

“I missed you when I woke up, and wondered 
where you were. I looked out of the window of my 
bedroom and saw a woman coming up the avenue 
with a man. As they came nearer I saw that it was 
Miss Grisoii and Moon.” 

“I’m lost, I’m lost,” shouted Sorley scrambling to 
his feet; “let me hide, oh let me hide,” and he 
rushed to the door. 

“Ain’t no go, mister,” yelled the malignant Jotty, 
nibbling at his biscuit, “fur I knows yer hole an’ I’ll 
sell y’ fur a sneak.” 

But in spite of this assertion, Sorley, in a fever of 
terror would have fled, but that Alan caught him by 
the arm. “Stay here and face things like a man,” 
he said sternly. “Dick run out and ask Moon and 
Miss Grison to come here. Then dash down to The 
Red Fox and bring Bakche to prove the poor devil’s 
innocence.” 

“What — what — what,” gurgled Sorley, as Dick 
lost no time in obeying, and sprang out of the French 
window which Alan had opened. “Can he — — ” 

“I think so; I am not sure,” said Fuller sharply. 
“However you shall stay here and face the best or 
the worst.” 

“Louisa will hang me,” murmured Sorley, sinking 
into a chair and covering his face with two grimy 
hands. Jotty grinned, and did not seem disturbed 
at the announcement that Bakche would prove his 
captor’s innocence, which made Alan think that the 
brat could not be so guilty as the Indian had hinted. 

Feeling weary with his long watching and the late 
exciting events, the young man went to the window 
to inhale deep breaths of the keen morning air. The 
sun was now rising, and the eastern sky was radiant 


3i8 the peacock OF JEWELS 


with golden floods of light, while the chill atmos- 
phere felt perceptibly warmer. Trees and lawns and 
beds of early flowers presented themselves with 
photographic distinctness in the crystalline clearness 
of the dawning, and there was a feeling of fresh- 
ness, as if all old things were being made new by 
the magical workings of nature. But Fuller had 
small time to gratify his jaded senses with this cool 
beauty, for crossing the lawn were Inspector Moon 
and Miss Grison. Dick had just delivered his mes- 
sage and had left them to dash down the avenue to 
Belstone, while the woman and the offlcer advanced 
towards the open window, as they had been directed. 
Alan stepped down to meet them, quite satisfied that 
the vindictive Jotty would keep a close watch on the 
miserable old man. The tables were now turned 
with a vengeance. 

^‘How are you. Miss Grison? and you, Mr. In- 
spector?” said Alan quietly. ^T heard that the lady 
was here, but you sir? ” 

‘T brought him,” said Miss Grison triumphantly, 
and looking wooden and washed out and as hard 
as ever. ‘T wired for him last night, for I was cer- 
tain that Sorley would come back to The Monastery.” 

Moon nodded, and looked curiously at Alan’s 
drawn face, and disordered clothes, and especially 
at his feet which were without slippers. came 
down late last night to Lewes,” he explained, ‘‘and 
drove over early this morning. That is why I am 
here at so unexpected an hour. And even if Miss 
Grison had not wired me, I should have come, 
although perhaps later. Miss Inderwick’s remark 
about noises in her house ” 

“Yes! yes!” interrupted Fuller with a shiver, | 
for the dewy grass chilled his feet. “I guessed that ' 
you would come after that unconscious hint” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


319 


‘Well of course Miss Inderwick naturally; 
wants to save her uncle ’’ 

Miss Grison interrupted the inspector in her turn. 
“She won’t though, try as she will. I know all the 
hiding-places in The Monastery, and wherever 
Sorley may conceal himself I can 'hunt him out.” 

“He doesn’t wish to conceal himself,” said Fuller 
coldly, for the look of malicious triumph on her 
sallow face was terrible. “He is in the library and 
wishes to give himself up.” 

“He did so before,” remarked Moon dryly, “and 
then ran away.” 

“Because he had Jotty locked up in a cellar here, 
and feared lest the boy should starve to death. 
Come in, Mr. Inspector. This is surely the begin- 
ning of the end.” 

“The end, the end,” cried Miss Grison joyfully, 
and absolutely chanted the words as if they were 
the funeral hymn of a victim, “the end of the beast 
and all his wickedness. I hope they’ll let me see 
him hanged. And he’ll have no coffin, but be buried 
in lime and ” 

“Hold your tongue,” said Moon roughly, for 
even his tried nerves gave way with a quiver when 
the vindictive woman expressed her unholy joy. 
“Come on, Mr. Fuller. I’m glad you didn’t help 
this man to escape.” 

“I never intended to,” Alan assured the officer as 
they stepped into the room through the open win- 
dow, followed by Miss Grison, who slunk behind 
like halting Nemesis, silent and sinister. “I forced 
him to stay and surrender.” 

“He sha’n’t escape this time,” growled Moon, 
looking at Sorley who stared rigidly from the chair 
he was seated in, not at the officer of the law, but 
at the cruel face of the wife who had hunted him 


320 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


down. He seemed like a rabbit fascinated by a ser- 
pent, and could utter no sound. Even when Moon 
again recited the formula of arrest he did not speak. 

But Miss Grison did. “Ha!” she jeered, pointing 
a finger of scorn at the motionless man, “now do 
you receive the wages of iniquity, you beast!” 

“Be silent,” said Alan tartly, while the inspector 
turned to address a few words to Jotty, who looked 
at him impudently. 

“I shall not be silent,” raged the woman; “you 
know what I am, and who I am in every way, 
Louisa Sorley — that is my name.” Moon overhear- 
ing, turned with a blank look of astonishment. 
“Yes, you may look and look and look!” she 
taunted, snapping her fingers. “Louisa Sorley, and 
that fiend’s lawful wife. Ah” — she turned furiously 
on her husband — “you cast me off, you made me 
hold my tongue by threatening to imprison Bald- 
win so that you could marry the wealthy slut you 
set your mind on. I could do nothing, because I 
had to save my brother; all I could do I did, and 
that was to steal the peacock. And now the secret 
has been guessed and the jewels belong to your 
minx of a niece ” 

“Stop that,” cried Fuller in a fierce way; “not a 
word against my promised wife. Miss Grison.” 

“Mrs. Sorley, if you please,” retorted the woman 
making an ironical curtsey, “and the girl is my 
niece by marriage as well as your promised wife. 
But she has the jewels, and much as I hate her I aih 
glad, since this sneaking reptile will not get them 
into his clutches. I have waited for this hour; for 
years have I waited; lying in bed, walking during 
the day, working or playing I have plotted an4 
planned and thought and striven to bring you down 
to the dust. You scorned me, who loved you, you 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


321 


tortured Baldwin who was your friend, and you 
drove us both in disgrace from this house. Now it 
is your turn — yours! yours! yours!” She pointed 
her finger again and laughed with savage delight. 
“You shall be driven from the house ; you shall go to 
jail; you shall be hanged by the neck until you are 
dead, and may God not have mercy on your soul.” 

Moon caught her by the arm, and shook her 
sternly. “You mustn’t talk like that, you know,” 
he said in a peremptory manner. 

Miss Grison — as it is more convenient to call 
her — ^wrenched herself free, and her little lean figure 
quivered with unrestrained rage. She wore the long 
black velvet cloak, the early Victorian bonnet, and 
the drab thread gloves in which Alan had seen her 
when she had been surprised by himself and Marie 
in the library. But she was no longer demure, no 
longer did she compress her thin lips and stare in an 
unwinking unmeaning way. Her terrible triumph 
had stirred up the depths of her nature, and she 
acted like a woman bereft of reason, as indeed she 
was for the moment. 

“Damn you, let me be!” she screeched, getting 
free at the expense of a torn cloak. “I can speak to 
my husband, I suppose. Ha! ha! A nice thing 
it is for me to have a murderer for a husband.” 

“I am not a murderer,” wailed Sorley tremu- 
lously. “I left Baldwin alive and well. She — she 
—she ” 

“She — she — she,” mocked his wife, “you, with 
your she — she — she. You are a murderer; you had 
the peacock; you have the knife which killed my 
darling brother. Deny it if you dare.” 

“I do deny it,” stammered Sorley with an attempt 
to assert his dignity. “I had the peacock, because 
you brought it here secretly.” 


322 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘‘You lie, as you have always done. I did not. 
Perhaps you will say that I brought the knife — the 
dagger — the thing with which Baldwin was stabbed 
also, you animal!’’ 

“No — no— no. I have never seen the knife. But 
I believe you would have brought it if you could, 
so as to make me out to be guilty.” 

“You liar!” raged the woman, while both Moon 
and Alan stood aside silent, wondering what would 
be brought forth next. “I came here on that day 
when I warned you, and walked all over the place 
while you were snoring, like the hog you are. 
Here!” she brushed Moon aside with a force sur- 
prising in so small a woman, and marched to the 
open panel. “I looked in here, where I always 
knew you kept your bits of glass, and I intended to 
take some, so as to make you suffer, just as I did 
with the peacock; just as I did with the peacock, 
you wretch ! But I found hidden there the dagger 
which was used to murder my dearest brother, so 
I left things alone knowing you were the beast who 
murdered him, and knowing that I at last had you 
in my power to hunt down.” She thrust her arm 
into the recess and tore out tray after tray of jewels 
which scattered themselves about the floor, and 
finally pulled out the stiletto which Marie had found 
and Alan had seen. “There ! oh there you are ! Do 
you see this, policeman? blood on the handle? Yes, 
take it, and bring it up in the evidence against 
him.” 

Moon handled the stiletto with a frown. “This 
looks bad,” he said to the terrified Sorley; “is it 
yours ?” 

“It was — it was,” stammered the old man, shak- 
ing with nervous fear, “but if I were truly guilty 
I would not dare to say so. I bought it in Venice 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


323 


— in Italy — where I — I he broke off with a 

cry rising to face his wife with what courage he 
was able to summon to his heart. ‘‘And you stole 
it over twenty years ago, along with the peacock; 
you stole many things — you know you did, Louisa. 
I believe — yes — I believe ” 

‘That I put it there,’' interrupted Miss Grison 
with a shrill laugh. “Oh I daresay. To save your 
own bacon you can say no more and no less. Liar 
and murderer and wife beater that you are! You 
struck me once, you did, you did, and now I have 
come back to repay the blow with interest. Man I” 
she faced round fiercely to Moon, “why don’t you 
put the handcuffs on him ? Make him a shame and 
disgrace in the village where he has lorded it for 

so many guilty years. I could ” she dashed 

forward with a raised arm, her face working with 
furious passion. 

Fuller caught her back. “Steady! steady!” 

“Beast!” she turned and struck him full in the 
face, whereupon Moon came to the young man’s 
assistance, and the two forced her back into a chair. 
For a few minutes she struggled, screaming, spit- 
ting, kicking and fighting with all the abnormal 
strength which her fury against her husband gave 
her. All at once she collapsed, and became as weak 
as an infant, to burst into tears, and huddle up, a 
nerveless heap, in the deep chair. 

“She’s finished now,” said Moon, wiping his red 
face; “all the fight’s gone out of her. Whew! I’ve 
seen women in the cells like her before. She’s a 
crazy bit of goods.” 

“She’s mad, quite mad,” quavered Sorley, wring- 
ing his hands in a senile manner, “I always said that 
she was.” 

“Then you sent her mad,” muttered Alan, who 


324 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


did not think Marie’s uncle was wholly the injured 
person he presented himself to be. 

All the time Jotty surreptitiously devoured all 
the biscuits within reach, and enjoyed what was to 
him quite a performance — and a well-known one at 
that, as often he had seen Mother Slaig and others 
of her kind raging in just such an animal manner. 
‘‘She’s a oner, ain’t she?” he said grinning, “but not 
a bad ole gal, oh no, not at all.” 

Miss Grison, who was lying back apparently ex- 
hausted, unclosed one eye and then two, shooting 
such a malevolent glance at the boy that he held his 
tongue and looked away uneasily. Moon was about 
to take up again the stiletto which he had cast 
carelessly on the table in order to ask questions, 
when Latimer, hot with rapid walking, made his 
appearance through the window followed by 
Morad-Bakche, who looked uncomfortable. The 
inspector nodded to both, but did not speak for the 
moment, as his attention was taken up with Alan’s 
attempt to pacify granny and the two servants who 
had been attracted to the library by Miss Orison’s 
screams. The three wished to stay, and argued the 
point, but Fuller managed to finally turn them out 
and then came back to witness what would doubt- 
less prove to be the final act of the drama. Mean- 
while neither Bakche nor Latimer said a word, and 
Miss Grison still lay back in her chair broken up 
much in the same way as was her husband. They 
were both wrecks, the sole feelings predominating 
being terror in the man’s heart and hatred in the 
woman’s. 

“Well, sir,” said Inspector Moon, turning sharply 
on the dignified Indian, “and what do you know 
about this matter?” 

“I have some idea of the truth,” answered Bak- 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 323 


che quietly, and now more at ease, ‘'and I am will- 
ing to state what I know on the condition which I 
arranged witli Mr. Fuller yesterday. Indeed, Mr. 
Fuller, so to speak, suggested the condition some 
time ago, and I came down here to see Miss Inden 
wick as to whether she would be willing to fulfil it.'* 

“If you know the truth, you must tell the truth 
without any condition. That is the law of this 
country. If you impede the course of justice by 
keeping back necessary information you are liable 
to a penalty." 

“I am willing to take the risk," responded the 
Indian dryly, “since I have so much at stake. I 
appeal to Mr. Fuller as to whether he is willing to 
agree to my condition?" 

“On behalf of Miss Inderwick I am," said Alan 
quietly, “since she leaves me free to use her jewels 
in any way likely to free her uncle from this ^arge 
of murder brought against him by Miss Grison." 

“Mrs. Sorley, if you please," murmured the 
woman without unclosing her eyes. 

Bakche took no notice. “I want half the jewels," 
he stated coolly. 

“You shall have a third," answered Alan. 

“Then I don't speak." 

“What's that?" cried Moon. “Let me tell you, 
that if you don't, I shall arrest you as being con- 
cerned in this crime." 

“You have no warrant !" said the man uneasily. 

“I shall arrest you without a warrant, and make 
good my reason afterwards." 

The Indian looked uncomfortably from one to the 
other, and finally seeing that the Inspector was in 
earnest, he yielded to circumstances too strong for 
him. “You agree to give me a third of my family 
jewels?" he asked turning to Alan nervously. 


326 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘‘Yes; I shall put it in writing if you like.’’ 

“No; I am willing to take the word of an Eng- 
lish gentleman. That lad,” the man looked at Jotty, 
“also knows something of the truth ; at least I think 
that he does.” 

“Don’t know nuffin,” muttered the boy trucu- 
lently, for the drink was telling on his weak con- 
dition. “If I did, I wouldn’t tell when that cove,” 
he pointed to Sorley, “lock’d me up.” 

“Tell,” said the inspector sharply, “or I’ll box 
your ears.” 

“Sha’n’t, sha’n’t, sha’n’t,” babbled Jotty, “wot I 
knows is wuth quids, an’ quids I’ll ’ave or say nuffin.” 

Sorley scrambled on the floor and swept together 
some of the gems. “Take these ; take these and save 
my life,” he implored, thrusting them into the boy’s 
hands. “You wouldn’t tell by force but these are 
worth money, so ” 

Jotty played with the gems and put them into his 
pocket. “If they’re wuth quids,” he said thickly, 
“I’ll split.” 

“Do you know the truth?” asked Latimer 
quickly, “I always thought you did.” 

“Perhaps you saw the murder committed,” Alan 
remarked, and they all stared hard at the boy. 

“No I didn’t,” snapped Jotty, “but I sees sum- 
thin’, and I think es I kin spot who did it.” 

“Who did it then ?” demanded Moon impatiently. 

“Sha’n’t speak till thet cove does,” muttered 
Jotty, pointing his chin at Bakche with an obstinate 
look; “don’t b’leve he knows tho’.” 

“Don’t I?” cried Bakche drawing himself up to 
his stately height, “I was at Rotherhithe when the 
man was murdered by his sister.” 

“Miss Grison!” cried Alan confounded. “Good 
Lord! Miss Grison killed him?” 

“Yes,” said Bakche, “Miss Grison killed him.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE TRUTH 

The accusation of the Indian, which seemed to be 
emphasized by Jotty’s silence, brought Miss Grison, 
still weak and broken, to her feet. “It’s a lie ! a lie ! 
a lie!” she stammered, holding on to the chair for 
support. 

“It’s the truth,” insisted Bakche deliberately. 

“But it’s impossible,” murmured Fuller, who was 
quite bewildered, “she loved her brother dearly.” 

“I did, I did. Bless you for saying that, Mr. 
Fuller,” cried Miss Grison in a tremulous tearful 
way. “Why should I murder my darling Bald- 
win ?” 

“To get me into trouble,” quavered Sorley, who 
had got back into his chair and was nervously 
plucking at his chin. 

“I wouldn’t have sacrificed him to you,” retorted 
Miss Grison, dropping back again into her seat and 
taking out her handkerchief. 

“Perhaps if I tell my story,” said Bakche appeal- 
ing to the inspector, “you may be convinced of the 
truth.” 

“Go on,” said Moon curtly, and took out his 
pocket-book. 

“She killed him ” 

“I never did, I never did,” wept Miss Grison, 
“you did it yourself.” 

“I did it! How dare you say that!” 

“Because it is true. You admit having been at 
Rotherhithe on the night and about the time poor 
Baldwin was murdered. You wanted the peacock, 
327 


328 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


you know you did, and told me so. When I said 
Baldwin had it ” 

went to try and get it from him,’’ finished 
Bakche, ‘‘that is quite correct, madam. I did, and 
I tried hard to get him to part with it. But he 
refused and you urged him not to give it to me, even 
for money. When you visited your brother ” 

“I never visited him,” snapped Miss Grison, 
whose strength was coming back, and whose eyes 
were again beginning to flash ominously. 

“You did,” retorted the Indian, “you went fre- 
quently, I disguised myself as a lascar and followed 
you. I overheard your conversations with him 
many a time, madam.” 

“Ah!” she flashed out, “you were eavesdrop- 
ping.” 

“Yes,” admitted the man candidly. “I had too 
much at stake not to take all the means in my power 
to safeguard my interests. And a few days before 
the murder you urged your brother to write to Mr. 
Sorley and make an appointment for the thirteenth 
of November.” 

“Ah!” murmured Moon, making a note, “the 
night of the death.” 

“Yes ! yes ! yes !” cried Sorley, his voice growing 
stronger; “I got that letter, and wrote an answer 
saying that I would come.” 

“Jotty found the answer,” put in Alan quickly, 
“and sold it to me for two pounds. Mr. Latimer 
passed it on to you, Mr. Inspector.” 

Moon nodded. “I have it at my office. Go on, 
sir.” 

“Miss Grison — as I overheard — urged her 
brother to make this appointment with Mr. Sorley, 
and then tell him that the peacock was to be given 
to me.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


329 


*‘Ah!” cried the woman sarcastically, ‘^and yet 
you say that I urged my brother not to give it you. 
You contradict yourself.’’ 

‘‘I am not responsible for your frequent changes 
of mind,” said Bakche in chilly tones, ^'sometimes 
you told your brother to make terms with me so that 
Mr. Sorley — whom you seemed to hate — might be 
disappointed, and then you tried to prevent him even 
seeing me, let alone handing over the peacock. But 
you got him to make the appointment for the night 
of the murder with Mr. Sorley, that I’ll swear to. 
There was another thing that I overheard. Your 
brother confessed with tears and terror that he had 
murdered that gentleman to rob him outside Chin 
Chow’s opium den.” 

^‘What if he did?” said Miss Grison boldly. 

‘'You blamed him for the shame he was bringing 
on your name.” 

‘T did, but that does not say that I should have 
denounced him.” 

“There was no need for you to do so,” said Moon 
coldly; “sooner or later the truth would have be- 
come known. Grison was already suspected.” 

“So he told his sister,” said Bakche quickly, “and 
for that reason she reproached him.” 

“Why not say that I murdered him?” sneered 
the woman quivering. 

“You did, but not on the night you advised him 
to make the appointment with this gentleman.” He 
pointed to Sorley huddled up in his chair. 

“When then, if you please, liar that you are?” 

“I am no liar, and you know it, madam. It was 
on the night that the appointment was kept that 
you killed your brother. I determined to come on 
that night, so as to overhear the interview between 
Mr. Sorley and your brother, and I did. Mr. Sor- 


330 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


ley wanted the peacock and Grison refused to sur- 
render it. Then Mr. Sorley left.’' 

“And Grison was alive? Grison was alive?” 
cried the man in question. 

“Yes,” said Bakche, answering the question and 
a look of Moon’s. “Grison was alive. Mr. Sorley 
is perfectly innocent.” 

“Thank God! oh thank God!” wept Sorley 
hysterically, and sliding from his chair he knelt 
down covering his face with his grimy hands. Alan 
nodded to Dick in a somewhat triumphant way, as 
he had never been sure of Sorley ’s guilt, and Dick 
nodded penitently in return, admitting silently his 
error. 

“Was Miss Grison at Rotherhithe on that night ?” 
asked Moon rather unnecessarily, seeing that Bak- 
che accused her of committing the crime. 

“Yes. I was on the watch, and I saw her 
coming.” 

“Did Mother Slaig see her?” 

“Not on that night, I fancy. Miss Grison always 
slipped into the house and out of it like a shadow,” 
said Bakche, after a moment’s reflection. “Some- 
times Mrs. Slaig saw her and sometimes she did 
not. The house was always filled with people com- 
ing and going, and in that shabby dress” — Bakche 
referred somewhat superciliously to Miss Grison’s 
worn attire — “no one noticed her.” 

“Everyone knew that I came to comfort my 
brother,” said the woman sharply. 

“I am not denying that. But on that night you 
hovered round the place and saw Sorley come and 
go. He came at seven and went away by eight. 
Grison afterwards came down and got a drink, 
after which he retired to bed at ten o’clock as was 
stated at the inquest. He did not see you when he 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 331 


was down stairs, as you did not speak to him. 
But you followed him up and were with him in his 
room. No one but I saw you, as no one paid any 
attention to your brother, save I who was on the 
watch. After ten — I can’t state the exact time^ — 
you came out of the room and slipped away un- 
noticed. I followed you to the end of the slum, 
madam, and then returned to see if you had been 
urging Grison not to give me the peacock. I looked 
in and he was on his bed quite dead.” 

‘‘Why didn’t you give the alarm?” asked Alan 
impatiently. 

“Ask yourself why I did not, Mr. Fuller,” said 
Bakche pitying this denseness. “Here was I, who 
wanted a valuable object possessed by Grison, dis- 
guised as a lascar. Had I given the alarm I should 
have been arrested for the crime and would have 
had a great difficulty in clearing myself.” 

“Yes,” said Moon, “that is perfectly true. Well?” 

“Well,” echoed Bakche,” what more do you wish 
me to say, sir. Grison was alive when this lady 
entered his room, and when she came out he was 
dead. I knew also that she carried away the pea- 
cock.” 

“How do you know?” asked Latimer, while Miss 
Grison sniffed disdainfully. 

“Jotty told me.” 

“Yuss,” said the boy, brisking up, for he had 
nodded in a sleepy way during the recital, “he guv 
me a quid fur tellin’ him; he wantin’ thet there 
blessed peacock, somehow.” 

“But how did you know Miss Grison had it 
Jotty?” questioned Alan. 

“Sawr it afore him es was good t’ me was buried. 
I wen up t’ ’er house in Bloomsbury es I’d orfen 
gone afore, fur him es was good t’ me, and I ses as 


332 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


’er brother was a deader. Sh’ sawr me in 'er room 
an’ I sawr ’er smuggle awaiy thet peacock and thet 
thing,” and Jotty pointed to the stiletto, which was 
lying on the table where Moon had thrown it. 

“You liar! oh, you little liarT shrieked Miss 
Grison, shaking her fist. 

‘^It’s trewth, fur sure,” insisted Jotty, ‘*an’ cos 
I knowed too much, y’ tuck me int’ yer bloomin’ 
ouse an’ guv me thet button suit. I didn’t say nuffin, 
I didn’t, es y’ wasn’t a bad ole gal, an’ I oped t’ 
maike quids out of y’. An’ when y’ come daown 
’ere, t’ the fun’rel of him es was good t’ me, y’ tuck 
awaiy thet peacock an’ thet stabbin’ thing. Oh, I 
kep’ m’ eye peeled, y’ bet, fur I wanted thet peacock 
m’self, wuth plenty of quids it is anyhow. Sawr’s 
y’ packin’ them in a bag when y’ thought es I wasn’t 
lookin’. But I ain’t no fool, nohow, tho’ y’ did git 
me t’ help t’ git thet Sorley cove int’ trouble.” 

‘‘How was that, Jotty,” asked the inspector while 
Miss Grison ripped her handkerchief to shreds in 
silent anger. 

“Why sh’ fun’ out es I’d got that letter fro’ him,” 
he pointed to Sorley “an’ she ses, as I’d better taike 
it t’ Mr. Fuller there, who’d give me quids fur it 
anyhow.. An’ I did, gettin’ two quids fur it. An’ 
then I was ’opin’ t’ git more quids fro the Sorley 
cove, and comes daown ’ere t’ saiy es the gaim was 
up, an’ show’d him th’ noospaiper.. She,” he indi- 
cated Miss Grison with his chin, “made me tell ’er 
as Mr. Sorley ’ad the peacock, es I’d seen the doring 
of it on Mr. Fuller’s taible and missus she ses as 
there wasn’t no dorin’ maid, an’ thet Mr. Fuller mus’ 
’ave got it fro’ the Sorley cove. ‘An’ ses she, ‘he’s 
cort naow, so I’ll tell the noospaipers es my poor 
brother was killed for the bloomin’ peacock’s saik.’ 
An ” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


333 


“Lies! lies! all lies!’’ cried Miss Grison, who 
had been gradually working herself up into a pas- 
sion “you want to save that beast of a husband of 
mine, you know you do, you know you do.” 

“He is saved already,” said Moon sharply; “the 
evidence of Mr. Bakche, supported as it is by Jotty, 
proves that Mr. Sorley is innocent, and that you are 
guilty.” 

“And what is more,” put in Alan severely, “you 
evidently laid a trap for your husband. That is 
proved by your telling Jotty to bring me the letter 
and thus implicate him. And not until you knew 
that the peacock was in Mr. Sorley’s possession — as 
you guessed from the drawing having been made, 
knowing that none had been made before — did you 
make public the fact that your brother had been 
murdered for the sake of the bird.” 

“Yes, yes,” quavered Sorley, who was still kneel- 
ing and weeping, wholly broken down by his provi- 
dential escape; “it was a trap, I always said so. I 
knew that she placed the peacock in that cupboard ; 
I told you so, Alan. I never knew that she hid the 
stiletto with my jewels, as I never came across it. 
But now that I know, I am sure that she put it there 
to get me into still further trouble. And I admitted 
that the stiletto was mine, didn’t I, Alan 1 didn’t I, 
Mr. Inspector?” 

“Yes, yes,” said Moon nodding, “the case is clear 
enough. Miss Grison I arrest you on a charge of 
murdering your brother.” 

The woman was silent and glared at him fiercely, 
but made no effort to evade him as he advanced, 
clinking the handcuffs. “Wait a moment,” she said 
suddenly, “you needn’t put those on yet. What 
motive had I to kill the brother I loved so dearly?” 

“That I can’t tell,” said Moon hesitating. 


334 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘^She is mad,” cried Sorley, ‘^she was always 
mad.” 

‘‘You drove me mad,” shouted Miss Grison turn- 
ing on him furiously. “I loved you and you scorned 
me because you wished to marry a rich woman. But 
that you could have put Baldwin in jail for that 
forgery I should have told the truth about my 
marriage; and much as I hated you I should have 
taken my true position here as your wife. But you 
were too strong for me and too strong for Baldwin. 
He was never wicked, but only weak, and you 
ruined him as you ruined me. I vowed to be re- 
venged.” 

^'And you have failed,” said Sorley brokenly, yet 
with a note of triumph. 

''Failed. Yes, I know I have failed, and what is 
more I have fallen into the trap I set for you. That 
makes me question the justice of the Eternal. He 
gave me misery all my life, and you happiness. Yet 
here you get the better of your evil, and I am con- 
demned to the scaffold. Baldwin is better off. At 
least I saved him from being hanged.” 

"Oh,” said Moon, while Alan and Latimer started, 
"so you admit having murdered your brother.” 

"Yes,” said Miss Grison darkly, and throwing 
back her head. "I did evil that good might come 
of it. Listen and before you take me away police- 
man, I am willing to tell the truth.” 

"What you say will be used in evidence against 
you, remember.” 

"I don’t care. I have fought and lost.” She 
moved forward to the table and facing the men 
adopted quite an oratorical attitude. Beginning her 
story calmly enough she gradually worked herself 
up into a furious passion, as a sense of the wrongs 
she had endured came home to her. And the fact 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 335 


that the man who had inflicted those wrongs was 
now free, was not the least bitter drop in her cup 
of sorrow. 

“Four men against one woman,” said Miss Grison 
scornfully, and drawing up her small figure stiflly; 
“five, if that brat can be called a man, instead of an 
ungrateful beast. How brave you all are, how very 
brave.” 

Moon glanced at his watch. “Time presses,” he 
said coldly, “say what you have to say, for I must 
take you up to London as soon as possible.” 

“Oh, I shall say my say quick enough,” cried Miss 
Grison savagely, “is that the way to speak to a 
lady, you low policeman. For I am a lady.” She 
flung back her head haughtily. “I always was a 
lady, as Baldwin always was a gentleman, bless 
him.” 

“Yet you murdered him,” hinted Moon coldly. 

“And for why?” she demanded clenching her 
hands, “because I wished to save him from himself 
and from the gallows, and from further disgracing 
the honored name left by our father. I tell you all 
that I loved Baldwin, but I knew his weakness I 
knew his faults, knew that unless he had some one 
stronger than himself to cling to, he was always 
dropping into the mud. Oh, the poor soul, who 
can blame him? Not I, though the world may, and 
the world did. If Sorley had treated Baldwin 
properly, he might have lived and died here in 
honor.” 

“I did my best,” quavered her husband faintly, 
“but he drank and ” 

“Oh, he had all the vices and you all the virtues,” 
interrupted Miss Grison scornfully; “but you might 
have put up with his weaknesses for my sake. I 
was your wife, and deserved some consideration. 


336 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


But you drove me away and you drove Baldwin.” 

‘'I gave you money to set up that boarding- 
house.” 

“Yes; and I took it as my right, although I could 
have spat in your wicked face for insulting me by 
the offer. I only held my peace when you were 
courting that slut who died, l^cause you could have 
put Baldwin into jail. He and I went away to try 
and live out our ruined lives as best we could. 
Baldwin was too much afraid to think of revenge, 
but I was not, and I swore that you should pay for 
your wickedness. He told you that he had the pea- 
cock, which I had given him, after I took it from 
here, as it was a toy to him. You came and came, 
but I prevented Baldwin giving it to you, although 
he wanted to, for money that he might go to the 
colonies.” 

“That would have been a wise move,” murmured 
Alan nodding. 

“It would not,” contradicted Miss Grison, “what 
do you know about it, Mr. Fuller? although I have 
no quarrel with you, as you have always treated 
me like a gentleman. It would not have been a 
good move, because Baldwin was so weak that unless 
he was constantly looked after, he was always get- 
ting into dangerous trouble. He was a fool; yes, I 
who loved him, and who sacrificed my life to him, 
say that he was a weak fool. I did my best to keep 
him in the straight path, I allowed him a weekly in- 
come, and comforted him, I did all that a sister and 
a woman could do. But it was all of no use, as you 
may guess, you men who are bullying a poor weak 
woman. When Baldwin confessed to me that he 
had murdered that man outside Chin Chow's opium 
den I knew that the end had come.” 

“What end?” demanded Moon stolidly. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 337 


“The end of my patience, the end of the sinful 
years which Baldwin was permitted to live on this 
miserable earth,” cried Miss Grison. “He told me 
that he was suspected, and implored me to save him. 
I promised to do so, and I did in the only way that 
I could. I killed him, I stabbed him to the heart, 
and that was an easy death compared to being 
hanged.” 

So fierce and wild did she look as she said these 
words, that all present shivered, and Sorley moaned, 
“A terrible woman, a terrible woman.” 

“A merciful woman! a good woman! a bold 
woman!” cried his wife, overhearing. “A weaker 
woman would not have acted as I did. But it was 
the only way, if I wished to save him from being 
hanged and the honored name of our father. Dr. 
Theophilus Grison, from being further smirched. I 
determined to kill Baldwin, and also to use his death 
as a means to hang you.” 

“You wicked woman !” cried Alan indignantly. 

“Wicked? Why wicked, since this beast ruined 
both me and my brother? I was only dealing out 
justice to him, as I dealt out mercy to Baldwin. 
And I made my plans cleverly. I knew that Mr. 
Bakche was haunting Mother Slaig's, and counted 
on him recognizing my brute of a husband on that 
night, since he had already seen him here when he 
came to make inquiries about the peacock. I made 
Baldwin write to Sorley to appoint the thirteenth of 
November night as the time to come up. Baldwin 
showed me the reply, and I knew that he would be 
there. I took the stiletto which belonged to Sorley 
as I stole it along with the peacock when I left this 
house. Since it was his I thought it would make 
the evidence against him more certain. I went 
to Rotherhithe and watched. I saw Sorley go, and 


338 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


then I went up to Baldwin’s room and stabbed him. 
It doesn’t matter how I cajoled him to lie down and 
rest, and chose my time. I stabbed him to the heart 
and that is enough for you to know.” 

Again her listeners shivered, for there seemed to 
be something terrible about this small frail woman 
admitting such a dreadful deed so callously and 
boldly. She smiled as she saw their feeling. ‘'What 
a lot of cowards you men are,” she jeered, “you 
wouldn’t have acted so bravely ; no, not you.” 

“Go on, go on,” said Moon impatiently, “there’s 
no time to be lost.” 

“I have nearly finished,” said Miss Grison tartly, 
“don’t hurry me, as you must admit that my con- 
fession is interesting. I killed Baldwin with this,” 
she added, taking up the stiletto which lay on the 
table, “and I took it away, along with the peacock, 
intending to hide both in this house. Jotty — un- 
grateful little reptile that he is — saw me with these 
when he came to Thimble Square to tell me of the 
murder. Ha ! ha ! of the murder which I had com- 
mitted. I wept and wailed, as I was bound to do, 
since my dear brother had been murdered by Sorley. 
Then came the inquest, and I said nothing, for I 
waited my chance. The funeral took place here, 
and I stayed at Mrs. Millington’s, she has been a 
good friend to me. I came to this house on the day 
you know of, Mr. Fuller,” she went on, addressing 
herself to Alan who nodded in answer, “and while 
you and Marie were in the grounds, and this man — 
if he can be called a man — was asleep, I placed the 
peacock in that black-oak cupboard and the stiletto 
in the place behind that panel marked with a cross, 
where I knew Sorley kept those bits of glass ” 

“They are jewels, valuable jewels,” cried her 
husband irrelevantly. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 339 


^'Oh, get on with the confession,” said Latimer 
sharply, for the prolonged scene was getting on his 
nerves, “you hid the stiletto and peacock.” 

“Yes,” said Miss Grison snappishly, “and then 
I waited, guessing that Sorley would probably seek 
Mr. Fuller’s help to solve the riddle of the bird. 
That was why I introduced the subject of crypto- 
grams on that day when we were at tea, Mr. Fuller. 
When I learned that Jotty had Sorley ’s reply to the 
request of Baldwin I sent him to you so that it might 
implicate this beast of a husband of mine. Then 
when Jotty told me about the drawing of the pea- 
cock, I knew that Sorley had consulted you, since 
no drawing had ever been made of the thing. My 
trap was set, and by making the matter of the 
peacock public, I closed it on the man I hate.” 

She shut her mouth with a snap, and idly dug the 
stiletto into the table as if she had finished. “What 
else?” questioned Moon imperiously. 

“Nothing else,” said Miss Grison raising her pale 
eyes; “you know all. The trap caught the bird, 
and my revenge would have been complete had not 
this fool learned more than he should have. You, 
I mean, you,” said Miss Grison walking slowly to- 
wards the Indian, “why couldn’t you let me have 
my way ?” 

“I wanted the jewels,” said Bakche stolidly, and 
not moving even when she was face to face with 
him. 

“You shall never have them,” cried Miss Grison 
unexpectedly, and before anyone could move she 
raised her arm. In a moment the stiletto was in the 
Indian’s heart, and he fell like a log on the floor. 

“Great God !” roared the inspector and sprang for- 
ward. 

Miss Grison put out her frail arms. “Go on, put 


'340 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


the handcuffs here/’ she mocked coolly. “I have 
settled the beast who balked me of my revenge !” 

‘'He is quite dead,” said Alan lifting a pale face 
from an examination. 

"And that beast Sorley lives,” snarled Miss 
Grison viciously, and spat at her husband. 


CHAPTER XXII 


CALM AFTER STORM 

In the month of July the park of The Monastery 
was in full leafage, and presented a glorious sea of 
shimmering tremulous green. The gardens glowed 
with many-colored blossoms ,and especially there 
was a profusion of roses, red and white and yellow, 
for Marie Inderwick, loving flowers, had planted 
quantities immediately after her return home from 
the Brighton school. The whole place was radiant 
with color under a cloudless and deeply blue sky, 
and the hot sunshine bathed everything in hues of 
gold. It was like the Garden of Eden, and neither 
Adam nor Eve were wanting, since the lovers were 
walking therein, arm in arm, talking of the past, 
congratulating themselves on the present, and look- 
ing forward to a serene and glorious future. The 
storm was over, and now a halcyon calm prevailed. 

“It’s like heaven,” sighed Miss Inderwick, whose 
face glowed like one of the roses she wore at her 
breast, from sheer happiness, “and to think that we 
shall be married to-morrow, Alan dearest.” 

“Then it will be more like heaven than ever,” 
laughed the young man, who looked the picture of 
content. “Let us go to St. Peter’s Dell, Marie 
darling; for it was there that we found the jewels.” 

“Rather the papers which led to the finding of the 
jewels,” corrected Miss Inderwick gladly, “and it’s 
a nice place to make love in, Alan, for I have 
planted it with roses.” 

“The Gardens of Shiraz, where Omar Khayyam 
sang,” said the happy young lover, and quoted the 
well known lines softly : — 

341 


342 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


“Here with a loaf of bread, beneath the bough, 

A flask of wine: a book of verse — and Thou, 

Beside me singing in the wilderness. 

And wilderness is Paradise enow.” 

''Oh, we don’t want the bread and wine,” laughed 
Marie indolently, as they took their way to the dell 
along a path riotous with blossom. 

"Bread and cheese then.” 

"You have left out the best thing, dear.” 

"Kisses, eh? Well then.” Alan stopped, took 
her into his strong arms and kissed her twice, thrice, 
and again on her rose-leaf lips. 

"I wish you’d behave yourself,” said Marie 
sedately, "as to bread and cheese we have some- 
thing better than that now.” 

“You have,” said Alan quickly, "the jewels have 
brought close on one hundred thousand pounds, 
which all belong to you.” 

"What is mine is yours, darling. You know that.” 

"Yet nasty people will say that I married you for 
your money, Marie.” 

She pouted. "What a compliment to me, as if 
I were an ugly girl.” 

"Quite so, instead of being the most perfect 
woman ever created.” 

"Oh,” Marie sighed from sheer pleasure, "say 
that again.” 

Alan did so with a laugh. "Marie, will you ever 
have enough flattery.” 

"It’s not flattery, it’s the truth, and I like you 
always to tell me the truth,” said Marie as they 
entered the dell. "Come and sit down on the edge 
of the pool, Alan, and have a talk.” 

"Why not call it the well?” he asked, while they 
balanced themselves on the circle of stones, and he 
jglaced his arm round her waist to support her. 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


343 . 


''Simon Ferrier called it the pool, and I think it’s 
a very good name.” 

"Darling, he only did so because he was unable 
to find the name of a gem which began with 'W’.” 

"I’m very glad he did,” said Marie quickly, "and 
that he could not find one which began with ‘K’. If 
he had we should never have solved the riddle.” 

"Oh, don’t let us talk any more about the riddle 
or the sad events connected with it,” cried Fuller, 
a shade passing over his happy face; "let us leave 
the past alone and live in the present.” 

"I am living in the future when we shall be hus- 
band and wife.” 

"That desirable state of things will come into 
being to-morrow.” 

"I know,” Marie nestled in her lover’s arms. 
"But I want to talk of all that has happened Alan. 
Then we will say no more about it.” 

"But, Marie, we have talked over everything 
again and again.” 

"I dare say ; but I want to ask questions and to be 
quite satisfied in my own mind that everything dis- 
agreeable is at an end.” 

"Very good,” said Alan, resigning himself to the 
inevitable with a good grace, for he knew Marie’s 
obstinacy of yore. "What do you wish to say?” 

"Well, in the first place, I am still sorry that poor 
Mr. Bakche did not live to get his share of the 
jewels. For you know, Alan, they really did be- 
long to him as a descendant of the Rajah of 
Kam.” 

"My dearest, the jewels were legally assigned to 
George Inderwick for a very great service. I am 
sure that the Rajah of Kam in those days would 
rather have lost his jewels than his wife and only 
son. As to Bakche, I am sorry that he died in so 


344 the peacock OF JEWELS 


terrible a way, and had he lived, undoubtedly I 
should have kept the promise made on your behalf 
and handed over one third of the treasure. But 
Bakche did not act well, or honorably.’’ 

‘‘What do you mean?” asked Marie opening her 
azure eyes very widely, “If he had not spoken out, 
poor Uncle Ran might have been hanged.” 

“Quite so, dear. But he only spoke out when 
bribed to do so. He knew all along that Miss Grison 
was guilty, and yet held his tongue.” 

“He wouldn’t have done so had Uncle Ran been 
brought to trial ?” 

Alan smiled grimly. “I shouldn’t like to have 
given him the chance,” he said in a skeptical tone. 
“Bakche, like most people, acted in an entirely selfish 
way, and was ready to sacrifice every one for the 
sake of gaining his own ends. Had Miss Grison 
given him the peacock, and had he solved the riddle 
and secured the jewels, he would not have confessed 
what he knew.” 

“But Jotty might have done so.” 

“It’s not improbable,” admitted Fuller musingly. 
“Jotty was wonderfully greedy, and was willing to 
sell anyone for quids, as he called them. He cer- 
tainly sold Miss Grison for the sake of the few gems 
your uncle gave him. However, let us hope that the 
reformatory Inspector Moon has placed him in will 
improve him into a decent member of society. He’s 
sharp enough and clever enough to do well in the 
world.” 

“But he hasn’t had a fair chance, dear.” 

“Perhaps not; but he has one now. Miss Grison 
gave him one also, but only because he knew too 
much and the brat was aware that he had her under 
his thumb. However, Marie, I have told Moon that 
when Jotty improves you and I will give him enough 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 345 


money to go to America and make a new start. So 
that disposes of Jotty.’’ 

wonder Miss Grison didn’t stick that horrid 
stiletto into him/’ said Miss Inderwick with a 
shudder ‘^seeing how he betrayed her.” 

‘‘He would not have done so had not Bakche told 
his story, and it was Bakche she hated most. It was 
truly wonderful how cunningly she managed to get 
close to the man to stab him. None of us thought 
when she walked up to him so quietly that she 
intended murder. And she drove it right into his 
heart, weak as she was. I expect,” added Alan 
musingly, “that is what Bakche meant when he said 
that a weak arm could drive a stiletto into a sleeping 
man as easily as a strong one could. I thought at 
the time he meant Jotty, but he referred to Miss 
Grison, little thinking that the very next day she 
would prove the truth of his words on himself.” 

“But she was mad, Alan, quite mad.” 

“So it was proved at the trial,” said Fuller with 
a shrug, “but I have my suspicion, Marie, that Miss 
Grison was acting a part. I don’t think that her 
brain was quite properly balanced, but her cunning 
in planning and plotting to implicate your uncle in 
the crime very nearly succeeded. She certainly was 
not mad when she acted in that way.” 

“Mad people are always cunning and clever,* 
Alan,” insisted Miss Inderwick. 

“Well, let us give Miss Grison the benefit of the 
doubt. She can do no more harm now that she is 
shut up in that asylum as a criminal lunatic, and 
your uncle must be relieved to think she is safely out 
of the way.” 

“All the same he has gone to live in Switzerland 
in a little mountain hotel, my dear,” said Marie 
nodding wisely. “He told me that he never would 


346 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


be satisfied until he had placed the ocean between 
him and his unhappy wife, and chose Switzerland as 
the best place to stay in.” 

“Which means that he has only placed the 
Channel between him and his bugbear,” said Fuller 
dryly. “Well, Marie, I can’t say that I am sorry Mr. 
Sorley came to that determination, as it leaves us 
The Monastery to ourselves, and such is his dread 
lest his wife should escape that he will never come to 
England again, even for a visit.” 

“I don’t think you are quite fair to Uncle Ran, 
dear.” 

“Marie, you have said that again and again, and 
there is no truth in it, I assure you. I have every 
desire to be fair to the miserable man, and so has 
Dick, let alone my father and mother. But now: 
that his deeds have come to light they all mistrust 
him. He certainly did not murder Baldwin Orison, 
but he assuredly ruined his life by driving him away, 
even though the poor wretch gave certain provoca- 
tion for his dismissal. And you can’t say that he 
behaved well to his wife. He married her for her 
good looks, and then grew weary of her, as such a 
selfish man would. When he had her under his 
thumb through the love she bore her brother, which! 
impelled her to save him from arrest for forgery by 
sacrificing herself, your Uncle Ran, whom you think’ 
so highly of ” 

“No I don’t. But I’m sorry for him, dear.” 

“I don’t think he needs your sorrow, or deserves 
your pity,” said Alan in a grave tone. “He was 
quite ready to commit bigamy for money because he 
knew that Mrs. Sorley would not speak of her mar- 
riage on account of the hold he had over Baldwin. 
Luckily the rich girl he wished to marry died, so 
another complication was avoided. He is selfishly 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


347 


happy in Switzerland with his jewels, and because 
he knows that the woman he wronged so deeply is 
shut up. I think we may as well do our best to 
forget Uncle Ran.’’ 

‘‘Yes, but Alan, he was very good to me as my 
guardian.” 

“I don’t agree with you, Marie, and if you think 
so, it shows what a truly sweet nature you have. He 
sold furniture which belonged to you and took your 
income, and kept you short in every way. He didn’t 
bully you, I admit, but he didn’t look after your 
welfare in any manner whatsoever. You know that 
what I say is true.” 

“Yes,” sighed Marie. “Well then, we won’t talk 
any more about him. I know that he is quite happy 
where he is, and I’m sure I don’t want him to come 
and make an inconvenient third in our lives, Alan.” 

“He won’t,” her lover assured her seriously. “He 
is far too much afraid of Miss Grison, or rather Mrs. 
Sorley, ^scaping from her asylum. He is out of our 
lives, Marie, and as he is happy in his own selfish 
way, why there is no more to be said. There are 
plenty of pleasanter subjects to talk about, my dear. 
Indeed, I never liked your uncle, and I always mis- 
trusted him, as I had every reason to.” 

“I shan’t talk of him any more, as I know you 
are right. And now that the jewels have sold so 
well and we have plenty of money we can repair 
The Monastery and improve the grounds, and you 
can be country squire.” 

“My dear, I am a solicitor, and I shall always be 
one. I can’t live on my wife, you know.” 

“But Alan, you will be away all the week.” 

“Not at all. I can come down every night. It 
isn’t a long run to town.” 

“I want you all to myself here,” pouted Marie, ^ 


348 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


‘that’s the use of my having this horrid money 
unless I can have you. And half of it is yours, Alan, 
for unless you had solved the riddle it would hot 
have come into my possession.’^ 

The young man was quiet for a few moments 
revolving what she had said. Much as he liked his 
profession, he secretly admitted that it would be 
very pleasant to play the part of a country gentle- 
man. And certainly the discovery of the jewels was 
due to him. Also it was he who had saved the girl’s 
uncle from a disagreeable death, and thus had pre- 
vented her from suffering a life-long shame and 
regret. Finally there was much to be done in con- 
nection with the house and the park and with cer- 
tain lands which Marie wished to buy back, as hav- 
ing belonged to former spendthrift Inderwicks. Alan 
thought that he could do a great deal of good as the 
squire of Belstone, especially as his father was the 
vicar of the parish. Therefore he began to consider 
that it would not be a bad thing to give up the dingy 
office in Chancery Lane and come back to the land. 

‘"And of course I could enter Parliament,” he 
muttered, following his line of thought. “Yes I 
could do good there.” 

“Of course,” cried Marie, clapping her hands, and 
guessing what he had been thinking about, “and 
perhaps you’ll get into the Cabinet and the King 

may give you a title and ” 

“And the moon is made of green cheese,” laughed 
Alan, giving her a hug. “I dare say I shall give up 
the law, Marie, since you wish it, and we can do 
a lot of good down here on your money.” 

“Yours also, darling, yours also.” 

“Very well, mine also. But we can talk of this 
on our honeymoon when we are strolling over those 
glorious Cornish moors. Now, Marie, let us go back 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


349 


to the house. You know Dick is coming to be my 
best man, and he is bound to walk over here as 
soon as he arrives at the vicarage.” 

asked him to come with your father and 
mother, who are due here to afternoon tea,” said 
Marie slipping off the circle of stones. 

“Oh !” Alan looked at his watch. “Four o’clock. 
Then I expect they have arrived. Come along, my 
darling.” 

“Only one more question,” said Marie as they 
walked away from the dell. 

“What is it?” 

“You know that Simon Ferrier went back to 
India after burying the gems.” 

“He didn’t bury them, he put them in Yarbury’s 
Bank, dear. You forget.” 

“Well, you know what I mean,” said Marie im- 
patiently. “He hid the gems so that Julian Inder- 
wick wouldn’t get them.” 

“Yes; that’s old history. Well?” 

“Well,” echoed Marie. “Simon Ferrier went 
back to tell George Inderwick where the jewels were 
to be found and never anticipated capture.” 

“True, oh queen ! But what does all this lead to ?” 

“To this! Simon Ferrier had arranged the 
enigma of the peacock before he left Enlgand, and 
at a time when he never anticipated that he would 
have any difficulty in speaking personally to his 
master.” 

“I see what you mean. Well, my dear, all I can 
suppose is, that Ferrier was an over-cautious man, 
and made ready the enigma in case anything should 
prevent his reaching George Inderwick, as he cer- 
tainly never did. When in captivity he worked out 
his scheme with the ring and the peacock exactly 
as he had planned it in England.”- 


350 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


"‘But there was no need to when he was here,” 
insisted Marie. 

“No. But as I said before Simon Perrier un- 
doubtedly was an over-cautious man; witness the 
fact that he made so ingenious a cryptogram — if it 
can be called so — that even the man he designed to 
benefit could not solve it. And in its very ease lay 
its difficulty. I can’t answer your question in any 
other way, dear. Not that it matters. We have the 
money, and everything is right, so let us enjoy our 
good fortune, and be thankful that none of those 
wasteful ancestors of yours solved the riddle. Had 
they done so I fear you would not be so rich.” 

“I think that is very true,” said Marie with a 
laugh; “but here we are, darling, and there is Mr. 
Latimer.” 

It was indeed Dick arrayed in white flannels look- 
ing big and burly and genial, and more like a good- 
natured bear than ever. He held out a hand to each 
at the same time, and walked towards the house be- 
tween them. “How are the happy pair?” he asked 
gaily. 

“We won’t be a truly happy pair until to-morrow,’’ 
said Alan. 

“Speak for yourself, dear,” said Marie lightly. “I 
am happy enough now.” 

“You deserve to be,” said Dick smiling, “for you 
have come through a lot of trouble, and that always 
makes hearts grow fonder. But do come and give 
me some tea, Mrs. Fuller — I beg your pardon. Miss 
Inderwick, but you and Alan do look just like a 
married couple.” 

“What’s that about marriage?” asked the vicar 
appearing at the drawing-room door — the trio were 
in the house by this time, “have Marie and Alan been 
studying the prayer-book.” 


THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


351 


“Of course/' said the girl, running forward to kiss 
Mrs. Fuller. “I know the ceremony by heart.” 

“It's more than I do,” wailed Latimer with a 
shrug, “and as best man, I am sure to be a dismal 
failure.” 

“Oh you'll pull through somehow/' the future 
bridegroom assured him. 

“You must give me hints then. And when you 
are off for your honeymoon to Cornwall, I shall find 
it dismal in those Barkers Inn chambers all alone." 

“Get married yourself then,” advised the vicar. 

“Upon my word I must think seriously about it,” 
said Dick. “What do you say, Mrs. Fuller. Can't 
you find me a nice girl?” 

“Not one so nice as Marie,” said Mrs. Fuller, 
looking fondly at the graceful form of Miss Inder- 
wick as her hands hovered over the tea-cups. 

“No, I agree with you there, mother,” said Alan, 
taking up a plate of bread and butter; Marie is a rare 
bird.” 

“A rare bird indeed. Why not a peacock ?” 

Mrs. Fuller shuddered. “Oh don't talk of 
peacocks !” 

“Why not?” asked the vicar, “all the happiness 
of the present is really due to the peacock. Marie, 
my dear,” he observed as he took his tea, “I used 
to laugh at the idea of your fetish, but really things 
have come about so strangely that I think there is 
something in it.” 

“Behold our benefactor,” cried Alan, pointing 
towards the bay-window at the end of the vast room, 
and there on a pedestal under a glass case was the 
famous bird, which had to do with so strange a 
history. 

And even as the young man spoke, there came 
a burst of sunshine through the window which 


352 THE PEACOCK OF JEWELS 


bathed the golden bird in radiant light. The gems 
flashed out into rare beauty, and in the dusky room, 
the fetish of the Inderwicks shone like a rare and 
magnificent jewel. So unexpected was the sudden 
glow and glory that everyone muttered a cry of 
admiration. 

‘Tt’s an omen!” cried Marie, ‘‘the omen of the 
peacock.” 

“Let us drink its health in tea,” said Dick raising 
his cup. 

And with laughter they all did so, applauding the 
beneficence of the peacock, even though the vicar 
hinted that they were acting heathenishly. The 
fetish of the Inderwicks radiated glory from its gold 
and jewels in the burning sunshine until it glowed 
like a star of happy destiny. And all present ac- 
cepted the omen as a hint of the future. 


THE END 


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